


In For the Kill

by BurningBroadripple



Series: Yuri On Ice - College AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, But they figure it out, Casual Sex, Coming of Age, DJ Otabek Altin, DJ Victor Nikiforov, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, M/M, Minor Yuri/yuuri, Mutual Pining, Rave Scene, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Sex drugs and EDM, Sex on x, Smut, Songfic, Sort Of, Unrequited Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, everyone is 21+, inspired by EDM music, rave kid Phichit, rave kid Yuri, rave kid Yuuri, seriously it's got a little bit of everything, superfluous use of the word dude, they're all pretty bad at feelings, yoishitbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningBroadripple/pseuds/BurningBroadripple
Summary: Yuri and Yuuri are good kids - they work hard to meet their deadlines, study for all their exams like they should - but some nights they let themselves get lost in the heavy beats and the feeling of sweat slicked bodies pressed against each other, the feeling of escape.From the So Cal beaches to the Central Valley desert to the woods of Nor Cal, if there’s music, drugs and a place to dance, the Yuris will be there. The people here run hot like fire - Live Fast, Die Young, Leave a Beautiful Corpse - that’s what they say right?Only they might find out along the way that there are things more cathartic than even the best high, and some people worth hanging on to the morning after.(Or 35k+ of college kids partying, fooling around, and dealing with feelings badly to an EDM soundtrack for the YOIShitBang2017)





	1. Fire In Your New Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> The art never happened for this ;_;
> 
> Also please note: I've taken a lot of iconic YOI moments and reimagined them with different pairings, so if Victuuri is sacred to you, this is not the fic you're looking for.
> 
> Thanks to Wynsolstice for reading through this beast and giving me feedback/error spotting!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Fire In Your New Shoes - Kaskade
> 
> Pairs: YuurixPhichit, YuurixYuri - harmless flirting, nothing explicit yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know I really like EDM music and going to raves/festivals/shows?
> 
> Well now you do.
> 
> This entire story is based on my love of EDM music and my own personal experiences in that scene. It's gonna be a little sexy, a little reckless, and a lot hedonistic. So if you're into the pure uwu culture I suggest you bail now.
> 
> [SPOTIFY PLAYLIST](https://open.spotify.com/user/burningbroadripple/playlist/646RDm3vEa7qw5qoo2RjvC)  
> 

It’s just past 8:30 PM when Yuri gets back to the small two bedroom apartment he shares with Yuuri. His Friday afternoon lecture ran late, he had to finish grading the exams from the 100 level course he TAed, and then he missed the last damn bus - but he’s finally home, ready to shed the week and its stress. He’s greeted by the sound of music flowing from the other bedroom, the sounds of laughter bouncing down the hall.

 _I like that outfit, the zipper's pinchin'_    
_But if you want it any tighter, we could cinch it_    
_Dress up leather, wear every colour_    
_I'm going Rococo with sequins in the summer_

“Yuurrrrriiii, take a picture!” He’d know the sound of Phichit’s voice anywhere - the man practically lived with them. Besides being Yuuri's other best friend and casual fuck buddy, they were also in the same major, and he spent more nights a week studying at their place than at his own.

When Yuri peaks in the room, he finds Phichit laying on his stomach across Yuuri’s bed, green bob wig framing his face, tie-dye t-shirt strategically slipping off one shoulder, jean shorts pulled up just high enough to tease at what’s underneath. Yuuri takes a few photos, moving around the bed to capture each pose, each angle.

 _So come_    
_Twirl your dresses around_    
_Lift your cotton socks on_    
_And turn your cameras on now for the fun_

Yuri already knows Phichit is going to pick the best one, throw on some filter, and send it out to his thousands of loyal Instagram followers. Yuri doesn’t get social media the way most people his age do, but Phichit is a damn pro. Between advertising the clothes he wears and the places he visits, he’s amassed a huge following and even made some good money. Yuri thinks it’s all a bit _basic_ , but it makes Phichit happy, so Yuri doesn’t push back even if he thinks digital flower crown selfies are stupid. Really Phichit is just like every other twenty something out here - he just wants his 15 minutes of fame.

Yuuri is half dressed; he’s got his favorite black skinny jeans on, but his chest is bare. He’s got a few things laid out on the bed - a pink mesh top, a neon green tank, but it’s the dark blue sequined crop top that grabs Yuri’s eye. He walks in without greeting them, picks up the top and holds it out to his roommate.

“This one Katsudon - you always look so fierce in it.” He shoves the top in Yuuri’s face, waiting expectantly for him to model it.

 _Buttons are busted, we're decorated_    
_We make an ornament with gold and silver plating_    
_So what's the latest, we raise a fever_    
_We're just all red inside, that's all to see here_

“Yuri! Welcome home!” He takes the top from his hands and throws it on, runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, making faces at himself in the mirror. When Yuri comes to stand beside him and looks into it too, Yuuri gives him that smirk in return, the one that says _'I’m a hot bitch and I know it'_ and Yuri can’t help but smile back because _'yeah, he definitely is'_. When he’s satisfied that it’s the right choice, Yuuri turns to embrace the blonde. He throws his arms around him, spinning them both in a circle, swaying their hips together along to the music, getting lost in the feeling of another warm body pressed up against him.

“Why are you so late anyway? Georgie and Chris are coming to get us at 9 and you still have to pack your bag. We’ve got the tent and stuff all ready to go.” Yuri just sighs and lets his head fall on the other man’s shoulder, gripping his waist tighter, melting into the embrace. When he finally speaks, it’s muffled into Yuuri’s bare skin peeking out from the top.

“I had a shitty day surrounded by shitty freshman and shitty professors. I need like, 20 minutes to shower and pack, and then I have to get dressed so let’s say 30. Not yet though, this is nice, I need this for a few minutes first.” Yuuri just hums in response, low and deep, runs his hands through the shorter man’s hair, working out the tangles, massaging his scalp. Even sober it feels a- fucking-mazing and he can’t wait until later tonight when he knows it’ll feel that much better.

A few minutes pass like that until Phichit starts taking selfies again, eventually getting off the bed and moving to stand behind Yuuri, wrapping his arms around his waist from the other side, swaying back and forth. He takes a few photos of the “Yuuri sandwich” before leaving a trail of kisses down Yuuri’s neck. They’re light, easy pecks, innocent and playful, snapping a suggestive photo here and there to tease his followers. Yuuri loves the attention, leans back into the embrace and smiles that devilish smile, the one that melts hearts and stiffens cocks.

 _While I light a fire in your new shoes_    
_If you should smile, look so surprised_    
_While I light a fire in your new shoes_    
_Look out that your soles don't burn to the floor_

It takes a few more minutes of the comfort of Yuuri's arms around him, of the playful kisses and giggles between the other two men, before he's ready to let go of the day and move on to the night. “Fuck alright, I’m good. All I want to do now is get dolled up and spend the night raging with you guys.”

Yuuri just hugs him tighter in response, peppers the top of his head and sides of his face with kisses. “Aww Yuri, you do love me!”

Yuuri nuzzles him, lets his hands roam up and down his sides lazily with no desire or intent behind them, wordlessly showing the affection he can't voice. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Piggy - I just hate you less than everyone else.” He gives him a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass for good measure before turning to walk towards their shared bathroom.

“Okay, well why don’t you get showered and stuff and then you need to catch up! Chitchat and I are already a bottle of wine in.” The words are barely out of his mouth before Phichit is back kissing his neck again, this time more forcefully. Between the wine coursing through his blood and the crop top leaving little to his imagination, there's a fire lit inside him and he knows they have time for a quick fuck. But Yuuri just rolls his hips seductively, lets his friend get a taste, then pushes off and heads to the kitchen to pour more wine.

“Naughty Phichit, you'll have to wait until tonight for that, the boys will be here soon.” This wasn't the same Yuuri he'd met in his chemistry classes all those years ago - the wide eyed, innocent teen who could barely make eye contact with a hot guy, let alone seduce him. But things had changed, Yuuri got a taste of attention, realized the sway in his hips left the other guys hard and wanting, realized a lick of his lips left them stumbling over each other to hold his books, walk him to class, buy his coffee. He got in shape, learned to dress himself up in tops and pants that hugged him in all the good ways and made guys want him in all the bad ones.

No, this Yuuri was a confident, sexual being. This Yuuri could kick his ass and he'd thank him for it. Fuck, this Yuuri was a goddamn cock tease with an ass like Beyonce and the face of an angel, but there wasn't anything holy about him. Yuuri was a raging river, and somewhere along the way Phichit had gotten sucked into it, dragged along for the ride, drowning in every thing that was Yuuri.

xXxXxXx

Yuri's just finished washing the shampoo clean from his hair and has a puddle of conditioner in his palm when he hears the faint click of the door handle turning. He doesn't have to ask who it is - a few seconds later a plastic wine glass full of Rose is being shoved towards him, Yuuri’s head poking through the back of the shower curtain. “Brought you shower wine, Thing 2.”

Yuri takes the glass, downs half, then places it in the shower caddy at the back designated for this specific situation. It had started as a joke one night when Yuuri was running late, and Yuri insisted he have a glass of wine during his shower to catch up. Now it had become a ritual, the first one ready bringing a glass to the other. “Thanks, but you're Thing 2. I'm always number one.” Yuuri frowns, but the blonde just leans back and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth to silence him. They’re friends - best friends - and sometimes they like to kiss and cuddle if it feels right. They've never slept together, but he's come close to joining Yuuri and Phichit for a threesome on more than one occasion. Maybe one day it will happen if the timing is right, but it doesn't really matter either way. He loves Yuuri, cares about the man more than he'll admit, but Yuri doesn’t fall in love, doesn’t have a use for relationships.

When he’s finally washed away the stress of the day, he steps out of the shower and straight into the night stretching out before him. First item of business - pick out an outfit that will _kill_. He loves Yuuri, he really does, but he and Phichit are bringing their A game tonight, and he’s never been one to be outdone. He goes back and forth, tries a few things, the pile of rejects growing at his feet every time the outfit isn’t just right. He has his entire wardrobe and Yuuri’s to go through if he needs it, but he’s starting to run out of options as he rejects a pair of ripped jeans and fishnets.

He doesn’t try to keep up with trends - never did understand the diaper shorts fad, couldn’t bring himself to wear something that left his ass cheeks hanging out - but he still wants to look good, wants to look hot. He’d been told he was “smol and cute” his entire life, and that was nice, but now at 21 he doesn’t want to just be cute, he wants to be sexy. He wants to say, “Okay thanks, I get I’m cute, but would you fuck me?” He needs something that will ooze sex appeal without giving it all away right off the bat - something that will draw the guys in but keep them guessing. He suddenly remembers that pair of tight leather pants he’d been saving for just the right occasion. He pulls them on, shimmying back and forth, kicking each leg out to pull the second skin on a little more, lying back on his bed to get the damn button through the hole. It takes a minute and some more awkward shuffling before they’re on and sitting just right, but when he’s done and gets a look at his ass in the mirror he knows these will do just fine. He still wants to show off some skin though, and even if it’s overcast up in the woods, he’s going to be warm once he gets going. If only he had something with cutouts, or mesh.

_‘Mesh...’_

He digs into the back corner of his closet where he keeps his old Halloween costumes, pulling them out one after the other - slutty pirate costume, slutty unicorn outfit - until he finds the one he’s looking for: slutty warlock. And there it is, the long sleeve black mesh top he’d worn that night is balled up but only slightly torn. If anything, it just adds edginess to it. He throws it on, letting his bare torso peak through in all the right places. This outfit is definitely going to get him laid, or at least a few numbers and some attention and that’s all he really wants anyway. _‘Perfect.’_

He grabs his favorite hot pink leopard print fanny pack and straps it around his waist, throwing his phone, some cash, a bandana and a pack of gum for later in it. He sorts through his kandy, pulling on the bracelets he loves the most first, rolling them up his arms protectively, leaving his least favorite ones closer to his wrists in case he feels like trading later. He throws a few last minute things into the fanny pack - uncracked glow sticks, his pacifier necklace, ear plugs, sunglasses. Yuri remembers the stash of actual candy necklaces he’d bought for last time and throws them in for good measure too. His hair is a wet mess but it’ll dry if he just combs it out a few times. A few minutes of primping later and he’s walking out his door right as Chris walks into the house covered in glitter and bad cologne.

“Let’s go, bitches!” It’s not an unusual greeting coming from Chris, and there’s no malice in his voice. “It’s already getting late and Georgie is being a big grumpy sour puss about getting there so he can find Anya and win her back.” He gestures to Georgie waiting for them in the car. He looks upset, but then again he always has a resting bitch face so it’s hard to really tell. They grab their things and pile into the small sedan quickly, eager for the night ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: When I first outlined this idea in the beginning of the year, it was going to be an SNK fic with Eren as Yuri, Levi as Otabek, Armin as Yuuri, and Erwin as Victor. But then Kubo blessed us with DJ Otabek and the shit Bang happened, thus this was born.


	2. Take Over Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Take Over Control - Afrojack
> 
> Pairs: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some kids living fast.

There’s something about the drive to the property up north - they’ve done it more times than he can remember, but it never ceases to excite him. Maybe it’s the anticipation building, or maybe it’s the fact that everything up here feels wild and free - like the further they drive away from town and into the wilderness, the more he can shed the mask he wears everyday to fit in and embrace who he really is, like the closer they get to the destination, the more himself he feels.

 _Let's go take a ride in your car_    
_I will take the passenger seat_    
_Baby, we don't have to go far_    
_Unless you wanna show_    
_Me a lovely place out of town_    
_Where you feel most at ease_    
_Well you are the one that I like_    
_Always will be_

Chris is chattering away to no one in particular about this guy in his psych class that is “the most attractive man he’s ever seen” while Georgie stares vacantly out the passenger window. Yuuri and Phichit are on either side of him, each scrolling away on their phones, taking selfies, making plans for the night. Not one of them seems to appreciate the way the world around them has melted away leaving just the forest. Yuri doesn’t care much about Chris’s story, or Georgie’s sulking, or Yuuri and Phichit’s obsession with their phones. All he cares about right now is leaving the tedium of his daily life behind and embracing the way the bass from Chris’s sedan pulses through him. It’s not enough though - if anything it just makes him even more restless. He hates feeling restrained, hates feeling like he can’t let go the way he wants when he’s shoved in the back seat, stuck in the middle away from the windows the others aren’t even taking advantage of. His head falls back as he sighs, but instead of staring up at the ceiling, he finds himself looking up at the stars through the sunroof: well there’s an idea.

 _I think it's time to let you know_    
_The way I feel when you take hold_    
_One single touch from you, I'm gone_    
_Still got the rush when I'm alone_    
_I think it is time I let you know_    
_Take all of me, I will devote_    
_You set me free, my body's yours_    
_It feels the best when you're involved_

He sees the button not too far in front of him, and before anyone else is aware he’s opened the sunroof, taken off his seatbelt, and stood on the seat to prop his upper half out of the car. He welcomes the slap of cold air against his face, throws his arms up into the air and closes his eyes, loves the feeling of barreling down this old road in the middle of nowhere with the stars and trees all around him. Lifts his arms up and down slowly, pretends he’s flying. This is the feeling he’s been searching for, this is the sensation that makes it all worth it - the feeling of being free.

 _I want you to take over control_    
_Take over control_    
_Take take take take over control_    
_Oh oh oh, I want you to take over control_    
_Plug it in and turn me on_

He waits for the scolding to come, but it never does. Instead, when he climbs back down he finds that Yuuri and Phichit have put away their phones and rolled down their own windows, heads stuck out like his childhood golden lab. Chris has turned up the stereo and dropped his story, choosing instead to get lost to the beat. Even Georgie has embraced the moment, let a small smile slip onto his face as he breathes in the fresh air. Yuri isn’t sure when the change happened, but he knows they all feel it now, the anticipation. It’s going to be one hell of a night.

xXxXxXx

The sedan pulls up the old dirt road until Chris finds the rest of their group and pulls over. Georgie is out of the car and off searching before he’s even killed the engine, and the other three aren’t far behind him. They make quick work of setting up their tent next to the one already pitched, throwing in all their sleeping bags and pillows haphazardly, knowing there’s no point in setting things up nicely if they’re just going to end up in one big cuddle puddle at the end of the night. The others are all sitting inside their own, passing around a handle of Popov, a joint making the rounds as well. “Hey Emil, what the hell man, puff puff pass or get the fuck out. You’ve been nursing on that thing for like five minutes!” Mikey is bitching at Emil like always, but everyone knows they’ll end up in the same sleeping bag in a few short hours. Sara and Mila are throwing back shots, hating the way the cheap liquor burns down their throats but loving the way it makes their minds hazy and their bodies loosen. They’re all a bit reckless, but that’s the point of being young. Better now than waiting until your mid life crisis.

Yuri, Yuuri, Phichit and Chris all pile in as well, making themselves comfortable wherever they can squeeze, ending up sitting in a small circle in the back. Chris hangs by the door, keeping an eye out for anyone that might try to sneak in, making sure everyone in the tent is looked out for. The other three have declined the booze and weed offered, deciding to keep to just the one vice tonight. Yuri’s restless, aching to get his hands on the goods, ready to get this night properly started. It isn’t that he does this often, but every few months he lets himself have a break from the monotony. See every day at school is about sticking to the routine: wake up, eat, go to class, eat, study, do your assignments, eat, go to sleep, repeat. Every. Single. Day. And Yuri does it because he knows he has to, because he’s an adult now and you don’t always get to do what you want to. So he keeps his shit on a tight schedule, gets his assignments done right, is careful and hard-working and quiet and everything you're supposed to be. But on nights like this, he can be who he wants to be, who he really is. He can bare his soul to these people, be his weirdest self and know they’ll just love him and give him a hug and dance right along with him. Nights like this, people like this - they make it all bearable, even if they’re all a bit nuts. Then again, so is he, and so is Yuuri. That’s what drew him to Yuuri in the first place - he knows a kindred soul when he meets one.

“Yuri, how much do you want tonight?” Yuuri’s got a handful of small pills in a baggie, letting it rock gently back and forth in front of Yuri’s face. “I’ve got 6, I’m planning on doing 1 and a half. You want the other half or just one?”

It isn’t until this moment that Yuri realizes he doesn’t know how or who Yuuri got these from, and he’s really hoping it was well thought out. “Who’d you get them from, I thought Leo was laying low for a while.” Leo, their regular guy, had nearly gotten busted selling at a pop up down in Malibu last month, and he hadn’t been willing to provide them with anything since.

“He is. This batch is from a kid in my chem 410 class. He made them in his dorm room - gotta love when you can apply your major.” Yuuri gives him a wink and cuts one of the red and white pills in half, setting it aside with another whole one.

“No shit? You trust it?” It isn’t that Yuri doesn’t trust Yuuri, he’d trust him with his life and he knows he’s always careful about this, but still, he’s always a bit uneasy when they move to a new source.

“Yeah I took a half one last week when I bought them - all good. Besides you’d know the guy if you saw him - long hair, usually has on flip flops and board shorts and a tank top?” Yuuri just gives him a patient smile, hands him the baggie to look them over.

“You literally just described half the student body.” It’s not an exaggeration - coastal college towns around here have a _look_ , and it definitely involves rainbows and beach wear. Yuri takes one out, turns it around, glad to see it looks like the pokeballs he’s used to.

“Well he goes to all the same events as us, he’s in the fam, you’d know him - he's probably here somewhere. Point is he’s one of us and he takes what he makes so we’re cool.” Yuuri pulls out a water bottle he’d stored away, pours them each a full glass of water into their red solo cups.

Knowing Yuuri had already tried them and knew the guy was enough to convince him. There were plenty of other kids who bought them off strangers at these things and had no problems, but Yuri, Yuuri and Phichit always prided themselves on being educated about the drugs they took even if it was overkill. “Alright, good job Yuuri. I know you’re always smart about this.” He takes one out and sets it aside for himself before handing the baggie back to Yuuri.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to my precious little Yuri.” Yuuri reaches across the tent, ruffles Yuri’s hair with his hand. “Can it old man.” He slaps it away, but there’s no malice behind the action. He won’t admit it, but he secretly loves the little shows of affection Yuuri gives him.

Yuuri turns his attention back to Phichit then, holding the baggie before him like he’d done with Yuri before. “Phichit love, how much you want?” Phichit doesn’t ask any more questions, seems satisfied that Yuri had already vetted things out for both of them. “One please, don’t wanna over do it. I don’t have your stamina, I’ll pass out by 3 I’m sure.” He takes the one offered to him, rolling it around in the palm of his hand.

Yuuri stores the baggie and remaining pills back in his duffle, making sure no prying eyes are privy to its hiding place. He hands them each one of the water glasses he’d poured earlier before lifting his into the air. “Alright guys, bottoms up. Let’s have a good night!”

“Who’s babysitting tonight anyway?” It’s Mila that speaks up this time, and Yuri nearly jumps when he notices she’s quietly joined their group, head nearly resting on his shoulder.

“That would be me.” Chris joins them then, taking a break from his post at the door. “I’m sober as a priest. You guys need anything you come find me alright?” Mila just gives a smile and nod before retreating out the door, pulling Sara along with her. Mickey and Emil aren’t far behind, everyone heading to the area the music is floating in from. When they’re alone, Chris turns to the small circle once again. “So is it just us four in the other tent tonight? Want to make sure you’re all accounted for or whatever.”

“Yeah Emil’s group is staying in this one and there’s room for all of them. We might pick up a straggler or two but it’ll be fine. The more the merrier!” Phichit’s smile is a mile wide, pleased at the promise of getting to snuggle up to Yuuri later on. It’s no secret to anyone in the group that he’s more attached to Yuuri and their casual relationship than Yuuri is, but he’s old enough to make the call for himself if it’s healthy or not.

“Make that five” Georgie laments as he sits down to join them. “Anya is making out with some guy behind the speakers.” He drops down beside them dramatically, throwing an arm over his face and sighing deeply.

“Five then. You can cuddle with me handsome.” It’s a lighthearted comment, meant to lift Georgie out of his gloom.

“If only I was gay man, life would be so much easier.” Chris and the others all share a knowing look at that comment because they know better than most that being gay is 100% not easier, not in any way. They let it go though, Georgie is just being Georgie, he doesn’t mean to be such a dick. Yuri and Phichit lift their water glasses to join Yuuri, pills in their other hand. It’s a silly little tradition they’d come up with one night, but it’s one that always gets them pumped for the evening ahead.

“Live fast...” Yuri moves his glass to the center smiling at the others.

“Die young...” Phichit lifts his as well, placing it against Yuri’s.

“Leave a beautiful corpse.” Yuuri raises his last, pressing it against the other two, completing their cheers. They all throw their own pills back before chasing them down with the water then moving to head out after the rest of their friends.

It’s going to be one hell of a night.


	3. Sweet Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Sweet Nothing - Calvin Harris  
> IDFC - Blackbear
> 
> Pairs: YurixPhichit (flirting), YuurixYurixPhichit (flirting)  
> YuurixPhichit (explicit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot, all aboard the Phichuuri Express.
> 
> First stop: smut  
> Second stop: Angst
> 
> (You've been warned.)

It's only been an hour, but Yuri knows that familiar sensation when it creeps up on him. It's a gradual thing - feels more like slowly dipping yourself inch by inch into a pool than jumping in all at once. The beat resonates deeper within his chest, running his fingers through his hair feels more sensual, the cool air on his bare skin is a welcome contrast to the heat of the bodies around him. He notices he’s moving - it isn’t a conscious decision to walk from one point to another - but his body is leading deeper into the pit and at this point he’s just along for the trip.

He slips on his sunglasses, careful to keep his eyes protected from the flashing lights all around him, throws on one of the candy necklaces for good measure so he has something to occupy his mouth when the inevitable jaw grinding kicks in. At some point, the heat causes sweat to pool on his brow, rolls down his face and into his eyes. He pulls out his black bandana and uses it to tie up his hair. Yuri isn’t sure how long he’s dancing alone, letting his body roll and sway to music coursing through his veins. At some point he feels the gentle caress of a hand across his shoulder blades, turns to find Phichit smiling back at him, pupils blown wide, floating on the same wave as Yuri.

“Is you rollin?” It’s not a real question - they both know the answer just by looking into each other’s eyes, but Phichit asks it anyway, seeking verbal confirmation that Yuri is just as gone as he is.

“Bitch I might be.” Yuri lets the words tumble out of his mouth languidly, rolls them off his tongue, gives Phichit his best bedroom eyes. This isn’t the first time they’ve gotten caught up in each other like this, when they’re both peaking and searching out another warm body to share those sensations with. Phichit reaches out and takes Yuri’s hand, spins him in a circle, places his palms on his hips and pulls him back until Yuri’s back is pressed up against the length of his chest.

 _You took my heart, and you held it in your mouth_  
_And, With the word, all my love came rushing out_  
_And, Every whisper, it's the worst,_  
_Emptied out by a single word_  
_There is a hollow in me now_

They let themselves get lost to the sway of their hips, the pleasant tingle of fingers scratching at scalps, weaving through hair. It isn’t long before Yuuri finds them, decides to turn their duet into a trio. He moves to face Yuri, holds his hands in his own before letting them roam up and down his sides. His mouth finds his neck, leaving wet open mouth kisses along the side, down his collar bone, across his shoulder. There’s a moment when Yuuri scrapes his teeth across the sensitive skin, has the front of Yuri's shirt tangled in a fist in one hand while the other rubs circles in the jut of his hip bone. Phichit has both his hands on his shoulders, massaging away the tension, forehead pressed into the back of Yuri's head. It’s all too much and simultaneously not enough, and Yuri can’t help but let the feelings overwhelm him - wash over him. He wants to reciprocate, knows he should be giving instead of just taking, but Yuri’s always been a bit of pillow princess and that’s not going to change right now.

 _So I put my faith in something unknown_  
_I'm living on such sweet nothing_  
_But I'm tryin' to hope with nothing to hold_  
_I'm living on such sweet nothing_  
_And it's hard to learn_  
_And it's hard to love_  
_When you're giving me such sweet nothing_  
_Sweet nothing_  
_Sweet nothing_  
_You're giving me such sweet nothing_

He knows the others are just as affected as he is - he can see they way they respond to the sensations of running their hands over his body, of rutting against him. Part of Yuri wishes there was more behind their touches, wishes there was more than just desire. Part of him wonders what it would be like to have someone touching him like this and have it _mean something_ more than just a moment of hedonism.

 _And it's not enough_  
_To tell me that you care_  
_When, we both know the words are empty air_  
_You give me nothing_  
_Nothing_

But it’s a fleeting thought - he doesn’t want to be caged down. He wants to be able to experience everything while he’s young and doesn’t have to worry about anyone but himself. One day maybe he’ll settle down, find a husband, adopt kids - but that future is light years away and all he wants right now is to be wanted, to be validated, to be free. The song changes and Yuuri looks back at him with the look in his eyes that Yuri knows too well, the one that says he’s going to grab Phichit and drag him back to the tent to fool around. Yuri steps to the side, lets them finally join together without him as a barrier, watches their hands roam across one another like they’re trying to see each other with the tips of their fingers, map out every inch of the other’s body with the palms of their hands.

They move to leave before things turn from suggestive to pornographic, but Yuuri reaches out tentatively, silently offering his other hand to Yuri. He knows the offer is very much real if he wants it, but as much as he loves the way he feels when they’re worshiping his body, he doesn’t want to let the draw of sex on x to be the reason he finally joins them. Maybe one day when they’re at home and things aren’t so heated he will, but for tonight he’s going to let them have their time alone. Yuuri gives him one last smile before dragging Phichit off towards their tent, leaving Yuri to stalk about the pit in search of his own good time.

xXxXxXx

They've barely made it inside the tent and zipped it shut before Yuuri is on him, ripping at the offensive cloth that stands between him and Phichit's golden skin. Phichit tries to slow it down, tries to find that rhythm they had back on the dancefloor but Yuuri is relentless in his haste to get that tie-dye shirt  _off._ He pulls on the hem, manages to get it up around his neck, but it’s difficult to get it all the way off because he’s pushed Phichit to the ground on his back and has his wrists pinned over his head too and  _‘oh’_ he very much likes this view but he’d like it even better if that shirt was gone.

 _Tell me pretty lies,_  
_Look me in the face,_  
_Tell me that you love me,_  
_Even if it's fake,_  
_'Cause I don't fucking care, at all_

Eventually, Yuuri sacrifices the position in order to let Phichit sit up enough to pull it over his head and now there’s so much more of that beautiful flawless skin exposed and Yuuri can’t wait to mark it up. He rips off his own crop top, before easing them both back onto the ground and letting his mouth wander along Phichit’s chest. For someone so talkative, Phichit’s rather quiet when they’re like this, and Yuuri relishes in every quiet gasp and moan that he draws from the man beneath him. His right hand trails down Phichit’s side, gripping firmly onto his hip. He lets his hand wander back and forth along the ridge of his jean shorts, teasing but never dipping further. He isn’t saying much, but that’s because his mouth is currently preoccupied with one of Phichit’s nipples and it’s hard to talk dirty and swirl your tongue around the bud simultaneously.  

He can tell the other man’s affected by the way his head falls back onto the sleeping bags, how his lower back arches up off the ground trying to increase the pressure of Yuuri’s mouth against his chest. Yuuri doesn’t give in though, just chuckles darkly before pulling back, knowing full well what the other wants but leaving him teetering on the edge instead. It’s fun for a while, but eventually it turns from pleasure to irritation and Phichit is just ready to get this show on the road.

 _You've been out all night,_  
_I don't know where you've been,_  
_You're slurring all your words,_  
_Not making any sense,_  
_But I don't fucking care, at all_

“Godammit Yuuri you’re such a fucking tease. I swear if you don’t fuck me soon I’ll do it myself.” And that’s all it takes for Yuuri to lift his mouth away from the other man’s skin with a lewd pop before his eyes turn dark and he sets his sights on the prize. He sits back up onto his heels, takes in the view of Phichit spread out before him one last time before grabbing both hips, tangling his fingers in the belt loops of his shorts and tugging them towards him  _hard._ The action slides Phichit closer to him so that their erections are rubbing against each other, but those jeans are still in the way and the high waisted design makes them more difficult to remove.

“A little help would be appreciated hun.” He gives another tug, this one a bit gentler. Phichit bends his knees, places both feet flat on the ground on either side of Yuuri before pushing his hips up into the air. Yuuri takes the opportunity to undo the buttons down the front before sliding them down over his ass. Phichit drops his hips back down, lifts both legs in the air and points his toes to make a show of it, give Yuuri a nice view as he pulls those jeans the rest of the way up and off his long slender legs.

 _'Cause I have hella feelings for you,_  
_I act like I don't fucking care,_  
_Like they ain't even there,_  
_'Cause I have hella feelings for you,_  
_I act like I don't fucking care,_  
_'Cause I'm so fucking scared_

The little show works a bit too well and Yuuri can’t help himself as he grabs his calves and runs his hands up and down them, leaves a few kisses and love bites down the length before shoving them both away roughly, rolling Phichit onto his side. Before the action registers Yuuri grabs his hips again, only this time he lifts them up until Phichit is propped before him on his knees, arms and chest splayed out on the ground, ass presented in the best possible way. He makes quick work of his boxers, leaving the man before him completely exposed, his erection hanging down heavily in front of him. Yuuri could almost lose it right then just watching Phichit lay there in front of him, silently begging for Yuuri to take him. For the first time that night he really regrets choosing skinny jeans because these fuckers are not doing his own cock any favors right now and getting them off is going to be a bitch.

He runs a hand along the thigh in front of him before giving Phichit’s ass a playful smack. Phichit lets out another groan, this one laced with frustration and anticipation. Yuuri is teasing him more than usual tonight and while a part of him loves it, a larger part of him just really wants to get Yuuri’s dick in him ASAP.

A few curses and some shuffling pass before Yuuri’s back in position, his cock already leaking and fully erect.  He runs his hands up and down his sides one last time, lets his fingernails scratch along leaving angry red lines behind them. He sucks on one of his fingers, coats it generously before setting about prepping his partner. They’ve done this more times than he can remember, the motions having become second nature at this point. He knows Phichit’s body, knows the way it reacts, can read ever shudder and shift and clench like a roadmap.

“Enough Yuuri, please…. I’ve been waiting all night for you.” And Yuuri can help but preen, loves the way Phichit begs for him, loves knowing he’s the only one that the other man wants. There’s something feral about it, when he says it like that, like he needs it, and it sparks a fire deep in Yuuri.

 _I'm only a fool for you,_  
_And maybe you're too good for me,_  
_I'm only a fool for you,_  
_But I don't fucking care, at all, oh_

He pulls back, rolls on a condom, coats himself with a thin layer of lube before lining back up again. There’s no teasing this time, no warning, he grabs Phichit’s hips and guides himself into that tight heat, bottoming out in one quick thrust. He doesn’t need to ask if it’s okay to move: he can tell by the way the other man stretches his arms out in front of him and balls his fingers into the blankets below, the way his back arches and his head tilts back and Yuuri’s name leaves his lips. He sets a rhythm, quick and fast, intoxicated by the drag of Phichit’s walls around him every time he pulls back, pushes in. There’s nothing gentle about tonight - nothing is usually gentle when they’re tripping hard like this anyway - but tonight he’s especially affected by the foreplay and the drugs coursing through his veins and the man beneath him and he’s going to reach his end sooner than later.

 “Fuck love, I’m gonna be there fast. You feel amazing. How do you want me to finish?” He tries to slow down, really does, but the friction is just right and he really hopes Phichit is down to let him ride this one out just like they are because there’s nothing that gets him there faster than getting to watch the way the other man sucks him in with every thrust.

 “Just like this, I’m close, just keep hitting that spot.” And Yuuri is completely happy to do just that.  He gives a few more hard thrusts before he’s overcome with that familiar sensation, before his abs tighten and his movements stutter and it’s all he can do to hold on and not let himself fall forward onto Phichit’s back. He feels Phichit tremble beneath him, knows he’s found release too.

 Yuuri catches his breath before pulling out and throwing the condom in one of their trash bags.  He grabs an extra blanket stuffed in the corner and uses it to clean himself, Phichit, and the sleeping bag beneath them off before discarding it back in the corner again. When he's confident they can lay down with being covered in their mess, he flops beside Phichit, let's his head lay in the crook of his friend's arm. They don’t say anything for a while, enjoying a few quiet moments as they come back down to the present until Phichit shatters the comfortable silence.

 “I love you Yuuri.” His heart is still racing and he's still riding that high, and he has to say this now before he loses the nerve.

 “I know Phi, I love you too hun.” Yuuri gives him smile, nuzzles his face into the other man's neck, leaves a playful nip on his jaw.

 “No you don't know, and I can't keep acting like this is just for fun to me, like that's all you are.” Phichit's turned his head until they're staring straight at each other, making sure there's no way Yuuri can evade this conversation.

 “Phichit, stop. I love you, you're my best friend other than Yuri, but that's all you are - my friend. I don't have any interest in being anything more exclusive than that to anyone okay? It's not about you - if I wanted more you'd be it, but I don't so you're not. That's all there is to it. So if you still want to say whatever you started to say, I'll listen, but now you know where I stand.” Yuuri’s face is soft but stern: he isn’t going to budge on this.

 “Did you seriously just pull the 'it's not you it's me' card?”

 “Maybe, but It's the truth.”

And that’s all there is to it really: Phichit is in love with Yuuri, and Yuuri is not in love with Phichit. He definitely loves Phichit, as much as Yuuri loves anyone, but it’s a platonic love, not a romantic one. He’s also definitely attracted to Phichit, and he certainly feels lust for him, but loving someone platonically and being sexually attracted to them doesn’t always lead to falling _in love_ with them. It doesn’t always lead to it, but it has for Phichit, and now he has to decide where that leaves them knowing Yuuri doesn’t feel the same way.

 “I didn't think you were such a selfish person Yuuri. I mean I still love you, but I can't be this for you anymore, this weird thing between friends and something more. We're friends and that's it now, okay?” Phichit tries to hide the tear that rolls down his cheek, tries to mask his sadness and put on a strong face to make this easier for both of them. In his defense, Yuuri made his intentions clear when they started this arrangement, and as much as Phichit hoped that lust would turn to love, he can’t hold it against him that it hasn’t.

“If that's what you need, then let's end this. As long as you're still my friend.” And it’s so fucking sincere the way Yuuri says it, like he really cares more about keeping their friendship than getting his dick wet and that just makes Phichit love him more.

 “Yeah I mean, it's gonna take me some time, and I'll probably need some space, but I'll come around eventually.”  He knows this is just as much his fault as it is Yuuri’s, knows that he went into this relationship knowing full well that Yuuri wasn’t into him romantically. But there was always a part of him that thought things might change, feelings might grow the longer they fucked. He knows he shouldn’t have bet on those odds but he did, and knowing he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up doesn't make the fresh rejection any easier.

 “Good, I'd hate to spend my last quarter without you.” Yuuri gives him a lazy smile before rolling over, giving him the space to move away.

 “Alright well I'm going to get dressed and crash in the car, I need some me time. I'll see you in the morning.” Phichit throws back on his clothes before grabbing his phone and Chris’s keys and heading out towards the car. He unzips the tent flap but doesn’t make it very far before turning back in.

 “Hey. It's sprinkling. I think we better find the others. Those clouds look angry.” Yuuri rolls onto his back, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over his still naked form before staring up at the open top. Instead of seeing the nights sky he’s greeted only with dark clouds and can’t help but agree with Phichit.

 “Yeah we'll probably have to pack it in and head back tonight - the mesh roof is great for stargazing, not so great at keeping out rain.” He starts to look around for his own clothes, struggling to get dressed quickly once he feels the first few drops seep through the roof and onto their belongings.

 “Fuck, so much for that me time.” Phichit is irritated with the timing but there’s nothing either of them can do about it other than grab their shit, take down the tent, and get it all into the car before things get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly subscribe to the idea that Katsuki is a good dude but not at all an innocent pure angel. This is the guy who is canonically kind of inconsiderate, so keep that in mind.


	4. Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Eyes - Kaskade  
> All We Need - ODESZA
> 
> Pairs: OtabekxYuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri meet cute.

Otabek is supposed to start his set in fifteen, but he has just enough time to walk out into the party goers and take it all in. He isn’t looking for anyone in particular, just taking in the crowd, feeling out the vibe of this particular group. He had a lot of his lighter stuff ready for his set, but now he’s thinking of switching some of it out for something deeper, something with a heavier bass. This group is **in it** , if the number of bodies making skin on skin contact is any indication, and he knows from experience there’s nothing better than that smooth deep rhythm pulsing through your veins when you’re tripping.

The current DJ’s set isn’t bad - pretty mainstream and not his genre, but not bad - and he’s got a nice chill Kaskade song going right now that the people around him are responding well to. Maybe he’ll throw something like that in too if he gets inspiration. He’s about to turn tail and head back to set up when the sea of bodies in front of him splits, directing his gaze straight at the most beautiful man Otabek has ever seen.

 _You and I_  
_Could paint the sky together_  
_As the world goes by_  
_We'll go on forever_

 _Look into my eyes, eyes_  
_Eyes are the windows to the soul_  
_Look into my eyes, eyes_  
_Oh you will know_  
_There is no surprise, eyes_  
_Because love is plain to see_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_Eyes_

He has to steady himself - this guy has literally made his head spin and taken his breath away just by fucking existing. Of course, his hypnotic dancing and mesh shirt aren’t helping matters either, but he could be sitting in the dirt wearing a potato sack and Otabek is pretty fucking sure he’d still feel like someone had just punched him in the chest.

He doesn’t remember when he started moving towards the guy, and he’s pretty sure he’s literally bewitched and under some sort of spell, but he can’t help himself as he walks closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It isn’t until he's inches away from him that they make eye contact, and the second those piercing green eyes stare back at him he knows he’s done for.

 _Truth is truth_  
_And time can never leap it_  
_This I know_  
_We will always keep it_

 _Look into my eyes, eyes_  
_Eyes are the windows to the soul_  
_Look into my eyes, eyes_  
_Oh you will know_  
_There is no surprise, eyes_  
_Because love is plain to see_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_Eyes_

Yuri doesn’t usually hook up with randos at events - it’s a bit risky for his liking and he’s got more than enough attractive friends who are down to fuck - but when he notices dark haired undercut hottie stalking around the pit, he thinks he might be willing to make an exception. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but he’s pretty sure he’s rocking lip rings and there’s some ink peeking out from the top of his white v-neck, so he definitely has the “badass” factor going for him. Of course, the chances of him being down for dudes is slim, but it doesn't hurt to look. Yuri spins around quickly when the guy glances his way, hoping he wasn’t caught staring. When he casually turns back that direction he see’s him again, only this time he’s staring straight at him like he’s the guy’s next meal, nothing subtle about it. Turns out Yuri's chances are better than he thought.

Yuri is interested, but he sure as hell isn’t going to make the first move. No, Yuri wants the guy to be enticed by him, wants to draw him in, wants to captivate him and force him to be the one to come over. He pretends not to notice him watching at first, but he can feel the gaze on him, can sense him weaving through the mass of writhing bodies towards him. At some point - he isn’t sure when it happens - they’re dancing close, eyes finally meeting, and without the distance between them Yuri can see the arousal in the guy’s dilated pupils: knows he wants him and eats it up. He could sustain himself on nothing more than the look this dude is giving him, the silent praise washing over him. He keeps dancing alone, swaying his hips seductively, inviting the man to join him silently. He never crosses the final distance though, never makes contact. Yuri isn’t sure if he’s trying to be respectful or just isn’t interested after all, so he makes his own desires crystal clear by reaching out and grazing his hand along the other man’s chest. He spins around after, dancing sensually with his back to him, hoping he gets the hint this time.

 _‘Oh’_ Message received. Otabek presses up against him, entwines the fingers of his right hand in Yuri’s and lifts it in the air above their heads, settles his left hand on Yuri’s hip, pulls him back against his chest gently. Yuri melts into the touch, lets his head loll back onto the man’s shoulder, presses his hips back firmly, loving the way he matches every sway and rock of his hips with his own as the music changes to something more upbeat.

 _This is not a tactic to expose you babe_  
_I'm just trying to see you in your moment baby_  
_No this is not a tactic to expose you babe_  
_I'm just trying to see you_

 _I could be down on it_  
_You could be all we need_  
_I could be down on it_  
_You could be all we need_

It doesn’t take long for Yuri to realize the guy definitely has good rhythm. He isn’t just able to match every sway and pop of Yuri’s hips, he even takes over sometimes, leading the movements with his own hips, changing his speed and pattern to match each song perfectly. It’s a major turn on, and if his dancing is any indication of his fucking, then Yuri is 100% interested. They move together silently for a few more songs before Yuri decides he wants to know more about the mystery man that’s assaulting his senses. “So do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you ‘hot undercut guy’?”

He chuckles darkly in his ear and Yuri knows before he even speaks words that he’s fucked when he hears that sinfully deep voice. “Otabek. And you are?”

“Very interested in seeing you naked.” The words rush out quickly and he’s surprised and impressed that he came up with such a witty response on the fly: glad being a meme queen came in handy for once. He doesn’t miss the way Otabek’s hand tightens suddenly on his hip, pulling him tighter against him. Loves the way he snakes his right hand through his hair, down the nape of his neck, along his spine. “Are you this forward with every guy you dance with?”

“Nope, just with sexy as fuck bad boys with deep voices who look at me like they wanna devour me.” His own arms come up then, reaching over his head, slowly making their way down behind him to scratch at the undercut of the man pressed against him. “And it’s Yuri - so you know who to thank when I blow your mind later.”

 _I was thinking you and I could_  
_Skip the part where we small talk each other_  
_Turn the beat up, turn it real loud_  
_Turn the beat up, turn it real loud_

 _Hold me to my word this time_  
_I'm gonna take another ride_  
_Call me on my bitter side_  
_Call me on my cell at night_  
_Take it to the limit babe_  
_Don't ask me to commit a thing_  
_If no one gets hurt, what was it worth what was it worth what was it worth_

Otabek spins him around then, staring straight into those damn green eyes, searching for something there. He must have found whatever he looked for, because he wraps his arms around Yuri’s hips, grinds against him slowly to the beat. Yuri runs his hands up and down his biceps, takes in the sight of him properly for the first time. _‘Yep, snake bite lip rings and chest tattoo confirmed.’_

He isn’t dressed like most of the people here - more biker bad boy than rave kid, and he doesn’t have any neon or glow sticks or kandy on. “Is this your first time here?”

Otabek lets a small laugh escape his lips, gives him a smirk in return. “Uh no, I’ve been to quite a few shows here over the years.” There’s something in the way he says that, like he’s telling an inside joke that Yuri doesn’t get.

“Then where’s your kandy? Or is it just not your thing?” It’s not unheard of, some people loved the music but not the style. For Yuri it was all one in the same, but the guy looked hot overall and his leather jacket was on point so Yuri isn’t gonna complain if he didn’t embrace the bracelets.

“Honestly, I never really thought about it. I mean, I see you guys wearing it but like, I never understood where it came from?” He takes Yuri's wrists in his hands then, lifts them up and places them around his neck, runs his palms up and down Yuri’s arms while they continue to move their bodies together, making contact in all the right places.

Now Yuri’s the one to let out a laugh. “You trade it man, when you meet someone chill and you connect with them you trade with them. Or if they don’t have any, you just give them some - PLUR life or whatever.”

Otabek just nods in return, keeps running his hands up and down Yuri’s arms, studying the pieces adorning him. “I see, so that’s where all of yours came from?”

Yuri smiles, gives his best wink. “What can I say, people like to give me things. I’ll give you a piece if you want it, so you don’t look like such a noob.”

Otabek lets his hands wander again, rubbing them gently up and down the sides of his body, weaving through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Yuri fucking mewls at the sensations racking his body, gets lost in the trail of fire he’s leaving with every caress. “What did you have in mind then?”

Yuri spins around again, pressing his back into Otabek while looking through the beaded bracelets on his arms, leaning his head back until they’re back in the position they started in. He’d planned on keeping his favorite ones for himself, but there’s only one piece he thinks fits this guy, and it’s worth parting with it if helps his chances. “This one.”

Otabek reaches out and takes the bracelet from his hands. The bead work isn’t anything special - some colored and glow in the dark ones around the rim - but in the middle the words are neatly spelled out and he can’t help the snort that escapes his mouth.

“Sex Panther, really bro?” His voice is deep but there’s a lightness in it and Yuri can tell he’s only teasing. “Hey I earned that particular piece thank you very fucking much. I could prove it to you handsome. Or you could earn it from me if that’ll make you feel better about it. Either way man, as long as it ends with me leaving with you.” Yuri purrs the last part of the sentence out, gives his hips an intentional pop backwards to accentuate his point, loves the way Otabek pushes back against him instinctively.

 _I could be down on it_  
_You could be all we need_  
_I could be down on it_  
_You could be all we need_

 _Just wanna fast forward_  
_Just give me the damn controller_

Needless to say he’s surprised and a bit upset when he feels the man suddenly move away from behind him. “Thanks Yuri, I love it. I have to go, but if you stay until the end of the night I'll find you.” He seems genuinely reluctant to leave, but Yuri can’t help feeling a bit used. What the hell could he have to do that’s worth bailing at this moment? Yuri can only assume he’s just another fuckboi tease, so he turns off the charm and goes back to his normal closed off self. “Yeah whatever, your loss dude.”

He turns to walk away when he feels fingers wrap gently around his wrist. “It’s Otabek - don’t forget. And I’ll find you later Yuri, okay? You’re staying tonight right?” Yuri wants to tell him to fuck off and stop playing games with him, but he’s got this sweet smile plastered on his face and he can’t help the way it pulls at his heart strings, makes him want to kiss his stupid attractive face.

“Yeah I got a tent with some people.” It’s not a commitment, but it’s enough to get Otabek to smile even wider. Maybe he isn’t just a tease after all. “Good. I’ll find you later then Yuri.”

His name sounds good - really fucking good - coming out of Otabek’s mouth, smooth like liquid velvet but with a hard steel edge and yeah, Yuri is _fucked_.


	5. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Run - Alison Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Otabek and Victor's world.

Otabek is in the small house on the far side of the property getting ready, far away from the prying eyes of the party goers. He places the bracelet from Yuri safely in his jacket pocket before taking it off and hanging it in the corner. He pulls on his black hoodie - the signature one he always wears - and pulls his mask out of the bag. He doesn’t always wear this one - it’s older and the black leather is a bit cracked and worn out. The bear’s mouth is open and threatening, ready to rip out the throat of its victim, and you can almost hear the growl about to escape from it, even if a few teeth have become dislodged. Otabek runs his hands over the detailed muzzle, remembering every single show he’s played wearing it. It’s definitely not as high tech as the one he uses on his current tour, but it's his first one, and he can’t imagine wearing anything else performing at one of the places that helped get him where he is. He pulls it on, fastening the straps behind his head in place before pulling the hood up and over, completing his transformation.

When he walks back to the stage, the event producer gives him a wave, gesturing that he’s about to be up before heading up to introduce him.

“We have a special treat for you guys tonight! We didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it didn’t work out, but we have a friend in town who’s stopped by on his way to SF and agreed to play a set. You might know him as the Dark Horse of Kazakhstan, or maybe as one of Spin Magazine’s Top Young DJs to look out for. Either way, join me in welcoming my good friend, Zoloto!”

Otabek can’t help but laugh a little about the nickname, about all of it really as he walks on to the stage. It had all been Victor’s idea, the day they met. He’d promised to make him famous, and so far he’d followed up and delivered.  
  


xXxXxXx

2 years prior

The club is a dive, filled with local retirees that show up at noon on weekdays and waste their pension checks on cheap domestic beer. The bar itself is old, solid wood covered in years of spilled drinks, chipped away by more fights than anyone can remember. But on Friday nights the crowd changes, it's still a mixed bag, but everyone is there for one reason - to dance to some gritty tracks, to spend a few hours of bliss pressed up against another body without any repercussions or expectations.

Otabek has just finished his set and almost finished packing up his gear when a man waltzes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't quite fit in - he's wearing dark wash tailored jeans and a black sweater that looks designer - but then again all kinds of people show up for his sets so he doesn't think too much about it.

“So you got a name mister DJ?” His voice is sweet like honey but there's something else in it too, something hungry. He’s not the first older guy to hit on Otabek here, but there's something different about this one, something that makes him nervous.

“Uh, DJ Otabek.” Otabek is polite as always, never wanting to piss off a potential fan.

“Let me guess, your name is Otabek?” The man sounds amused, like it's a joke between friends. Only Otabek doesn't feel too friendly towards this dude yet.

“Yes sir.” He silently curses himself for reverting to something so formal, but this guy has _presence_ and he's fucking with his confidence, making him feel like a little boy.

“Real original kid. Look that’s not going to be nearly good enough.” He gives him a smirk before picking up one of his mixers, turning it in his hands, examining the equipment.

“Good enough for what?” Otabek reaches out to take it back, but the silver haired man pulls it out of his grasp.

“To get famous! From this day forward, I’m going to be your new manager Otabek. And with my help, you’re going to get a gold record. That’s what you want isn’t it, to stop playing dingy shacks like this, to make it on the main stage at EDC?” He sounds so confident, like this entire interaction isn't fucking insane, like Otabek should be begging him to manage him without knowing anything about him.

“Look I appreciate it, but I’m not interested. I’m in it for the music.” He finally grabs the equipment and puts it away, getting ready to leave this man and this conversation behind.

“In it for the music… wow kid, that’s so cliche”. He rubs his temples and shakes his head. “You could be something special! You’ve got talent, and trust me, I know talent.” He taps his finger to his temple to accentuate the point.

“Look mister…”

“Nikiforov. Victor Nikiforov.” He gives a smile then, a real one, and holds out his hand expectantly

“Oh shit.” Otabek can't stop staring, mouth slightly hung open, eyes taking in the guy again. And holy shit, this really is Victor Nikiforov, _the_ Victor Nikiforov. The guy who single handedly brought trance into the mainstream, the producer who’s worked with everyone who’s anyone, the fucking legend Victor Nikiforov. He reaches out tentatively, shaking the outstretched hand with his own.

“Oh shit indeed. Now, like I said, the DJ name needs work, but I can think of something. Where are you from?” Victor looks him up and down, as if trying to place his dark hair and tan skin, trying to find something there.

“Uh, Pasadena.” And Otabek feels like an idiot because this is Victor fucking Nikiforov, offering to manage him, and he can barely get the name of his hometown out.

“Huh, well that isn’t going to do much. What about your heritage, what’s your background? You’ve clearly got something going on there.” He waves his hand up and down, gestures vaguely at Otabek.

“Well my parents immigrated from Kazakhstan before I was born.” And there, that's a proper sentence. He is trying, really trying, but this whole moment still feels surreal and he half expects to wake up part way through and find out it was a dream.

“Ah, there we go, Kazakhstan! I can work with that. Something edgy, something cool. You look like you’re hung like a horse, so there’s probably something there.” Otabek turns bright red and wow, he really doesn’t know how to respond to how forward this guy is. He’d heard rumors, read tabloids of course, but he always assumed they’d embellished.

“The Kazakhstan Stallion… oh, I have it. The Dark Horse of Kazakhstan!” Victor smiles, throws his arm in the air to celebrate silently.

“That’s my new DJ name?” Otabek is tentative, still not convinced this is the best idea.

“No, that’s your new image. We’ll figure something out for your name later. Right now just work on your look - you’re the edgy bad boy DJ from a foreign land, got it?” Victor pulls out his phone, starts typing away.

“Yeah, sure Mr. Nikiforov.” Otabek hasn't even been to Kazakhstan since he was 3 years old, but he doesn’t want to piss Victor off or blow this chance. Victor spends the next few moments fiddling with his cell. When he’s done he sets it in his pocket, looks up at Otabek, and places both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look him dead in the eye.

“Good - and call me Victor. I want to get to know you Otabek, want to know everything about you, what makes you tick, what inspires you. And together we’re going to make you a star, we’re going to get you gold.” Victor pauses for a moment, his eyes glaze over and he looks like he’s staring at something only there isn’t anything there. He must be thinking pretty hard, because his brow is furrowed and his head is bent and is that a bald spot…

“Otabek, that’s it! Zoloto - that’s your DJ name.” His head snaps back up and his smile is a mile wide. Otabek can’t help but notice his mouth practically looks like a heart and he’s never seen someone look so excited before.

“Zoloto?” Otabek’s tone is still questioning, still timid. This is all happening really fucking fast but again, this is Victor Nikiforov, so he really can’t be too surprised.

“Yeah, it means ‘Gold,’ and it sounds sick as fuck. The US kids aren’t going to have any idea, and the people who speak Russian will like it too, so it’s win-win.” He pulls out his phone and goes back to work, quickly looking up the name to make sure no one else is already using it.

“But what if I don’t want to be famous - I mean I want to headline the big festivals, I want everyone to know my music, but I want to be a normal guy too, I want to go out and have that freedom of anonymity.” Otabek doesn’t want to seem unappreciative or insulting, but he knows that Victor’s entire life has been in the public eye since he was 16, and that is definitely not the life Otabek wants for himself.

“Hmm, you ever heard of Deadmau5? Daft Punk? You know how they did it, don’t you?” There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and Otabek has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“Helmets?” It’s phrased as a question, but he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, helmets. We could make something like that for you, something to go with your look. Got anything in mind?” And now Otabek is caught off guard because he never expected Victor to consider the idea, let alone give him some freedom to decide how to do it himself. He thinks back to the mask he made a few months before out of hot glue and fabric scraps. It’s not good enough on its own, but with Victor’s help, they could use it as a prototype to make something legit.

For the first time since this whole crazy conversation started, Otabek feels a bit more at ease with the idea of working with Victor, of letting him take him under his wing. He isn’t sure if it’s going to work out, hell he isn’t sure if it’s going to go anywhere after they part ways tonight, but he’s willing to try. He lifts his gaze and stares straight back at the man in front of him, smiling and giving him a nod.

“Yeah actually, I do.”

And that’s all it takes for Victor to smile back at him, nod in response, silently agreeing to the new condition.

“Then let’s make history.”

  
xXxXxXx

Otabek lifts one hand in the air, silencing the crowd wordlessly. He takes a minute to scan across the group, take it in from this vantage point. This group, these people - they’re the reason he’s gotten this far in the first place. They’re the kids that drive hours just to go to an underground warehouse show that might not even be happening. These kids have phone hotlines they set up with secret numbers, they use Instagram and facebook and twitter to spread the word without giving away the details that will get it shut down. These kids do all the legwork - Otabek just shows up and plays music. In his mind, these kids have put in as much work as he has to make a name for himself, and he wants to give them the show of their lives in return. Victor had been against it of course - an unsanctioned underground show while he was on a very public tour - but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to stop in and rage with some of his old friends. So here he is, wearing his oldest mask, ready to uncage the beast and take this group on a fucking musical journey. If there’s a certain hot blonde in the crowd that he’s particularly interested in impressing, then no one else needs to know about it.

His eyes lock on Yuri, and in that moment his mind is made up - he’s switching things up right off the start, going back to his trap roots: these kids are gritty and tripping and itching for release and he’s going to be the one to give it to them. He lowers his arm, lets the first few notes float out, lets the crowd adjust from the EDM bangers they’d heard all night and embark on this trip with him to somewhere darker, somewhere heavier.

 _Don’t take it down_    
_Don’t take it down_    
_Don’t take it down_    
_Don’t take it down_

This track has a nice long build up and even though some of them are still trying to find the rhythm to it, most have caught on, are letting their bodies move along, seeking that moment when the beat inevitably drops. He lets the anticipation build, hyping it up until the crescendo then throwing his arm out in time with the drop, signaling for everyone to let go of their inhibitions and give in to the bass. And oh, they definitely _do_.

 _I needed you another way_    
_Giving up another won't break me_    
_I'll take it all and let you lay_    
_It's moving on so look away_    
_Run_

His scans the crowd, watching the sea of bodies undulating in time to the track, getting lost in the way countless colors swirl together as the masses move. It's overwhelming how many people are in front of him, sometimes unable to distinguish where one ends and the next begins, but his eyes always find their way back to the blonde - held captive by his movements. He loves watching Yuri dance, the way he runs his hands up and down his body, how he rakes them through his hair. Otabek gets lost in his mind imagining the way it would feel to have those hands on him, reminiscing about the last time he rolled and lived those sensations himself, riding on the high of the track right along with everyone else.

 _Don't take it down, don't take it down_    
_Take me here I'm higher, I'm higher_    
_Gotta take me here, I'm higher_    
_I'm higher_

Another dude gets a bit too close to Yuri and Otabek realizes suddenly like a slap to the face that he wants to be the only person to touch Yuri when he’s like this - wants to be the one supplying him with that pleasure, wants to have him come apart in his hands so he can put him back together piece by piece. The confession overwhelms him - he just fucking met the guy - and he feels like a creep because he's never felt this possessive before over anyone, not even his previous lovers. But there’s something about this man and the way he moves, those fucking green eyes of his that say everything Yuri won't, the lean muscle peeking through his shirt, obviously gained over years of physical activity. Something about this dude has Otabek losing his shit, questioning everything he knows about himself.

 _I needed you another way_    
_Giving up another won't break me_    
_I'll take it all and let you lay_    
_It's moving on so look away_    
_Run_

Fuck maybe love at first sight is real or maybe this guy is just every one of Otabek’s wet dreams rolled into one mass of blood and bones and flawless skin but either way, Otabek is doomed, raked across the coals, fucking hung up on the racks to dry. This guy is going to be the death of him and he doesn't even know his last name.


	6. In For the Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In For The Kill - La Roux (Skream Remix)
> 
> Pairs: YurixOtabek(explicit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more smut you sinners.

He makes it through an hour of his set, but he knows there are only a few songs left, and he can't stand watching Yuri dance anymore without wanting to be pressed up against him again. He sets up the remaining songs on a preset, adding one to the end just for Yuri. He slips back from the dials, ducks down under the back curtain before signaling for the other DJ to head up and finish the night off. He gives him a wink and a nudge, asks him to let his set finish off before taking over then walks back to the house ready to resume his other identity.

He’s back out in the crowd before the track even finishes, leather jacket and bracelet back in place, his hoodie and mask tucked away carefully with the rest of his belonging in his car. He’s only got one goal in mind and he isn’t going to let anything get in his way: he’s the hunter, and Yuri is his prey.

When he finally finds him there’s a beautiful girl with short red hair pressed up against him, arms looped around his neck. She’s wearing black thigh high stockings, black shorts, and an oversized black t shirt with a huge wolf head on the front and Otabek has to admit the girl has style and a cute face too. His admiration for her appearance is cut short however when he notices her hand trailing south down Yuri’s chest, raking up and down his skin under the mesh shirt. Otabek knows he doesn’t have any right to be upset - Yuri can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants - but it doesn’t make it any easier to see. He starts to doubt himself, wonders if maybe this is how Yuri is with everyone, maybe he didn't think their first encounter was anything special after all. He’s about to turn tail and get the fuck out of here before he can embarrass himself more, but a hand on his wrist stops him in his tracks.

He turns back to find Yuri smiling at him, the beautiful girl still dancing next to him but no longer making any contact, her arms now thrown around another equally beautiful girl and _'oh’_ she has her tongue down her throat, so maybe Yuri is just a friend after all. Yuri holds out a hand, beckons him to join him once again. Otabek moves back towards him, steps closer but doesn’t make any firm contact, just hovers and gives him a smirk in return. Yuri lifts an eyebrow before grabbing his jacket and pulling him close again. He nuzzles his face into Otabek’s neck, breath ghosting over the sensitive skin; runs his hands over his sides, fingers digging into the thin fabric separating them. Otabek can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes him when Yuri lets his hands dance under the shirt, finally making skin on skin contact, gripping hard enough to leave bruises. Otabek was wrong: Yuri is the hunter, and he is his very willing prey.

They dance together, sharing heated touches, letting themselves explore eachother’s bodies with the pads of their fingers and the tips of their tongues. When Yuri looks up, his eyes are met with Otabek’s staring straight back at him. He has that glint in his eye again, that same look from before. It makes Yuri uneasy, leaves him feeling exposed, like Otabek is looking straight through him.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Yuri does his best to sound seductive, but there’s an edge to the question and part of him really wants to know what the guy finds so interesting about him, would love nothing more than to hear him vocalize his desires.

“Are you in it right now?” It’s not the response he was expecting, but he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face, pulls the edges of his mouth upwards, lets his eyes relax.

“Yeah man, I'm fucking floating.” He throws his head back and lets himself hang onto the man in front of him, loves how his arms wrap around him reflexively, wants to let this guy carry him away so he can ride this high out with him.

 _We can fight our desires_  
_But when we start making fires_  
_We get ever so hot_  
_Whether we like it or not_  
_They say we can love who we trust_  
_But what is love without lust?_  
_Two hearts with accurate devotions_  
_And what are feelings without emotions?_

 _I'm going in for the kill_  
_I'm doing it for a thrill_  
_Oh I'm hoping you'll understand_  
_And not let go of my hand_

Otabek still has both arms wrapped around him, pressing their chests flush against each other, letting Yuri hang limply off him as he sways back and forth languidly, relishing in the embrace. He's tripping hard, and he's in love with the heavy beats that course through his veins like they're a part of him, like his heart beat and the bass are one and every time it drops he can feel the heat snake down his spine. He's in love with the feeling of the body pressing up against him, every ridge and curve, skin and muscle and bone. The way the hands on his hips are keeping him anchored to this moment and this place and this person and this song - like there is nothing outside of this than can get to him, no place for stray worries or anxieties to creep in. There's no tomorrow, no yesterday, just this moment; he's never felt more alive, never felt more whole.

Other people went to churches and mosques, kneeled and gave praise to a higher a power, felt in awe at the presence of it. Yuri never got anything from the years of Catholicism forced on him in youth, but this moment is beautiful, awe-inspiring, makes his knees weak and he wants to fall to the floor in recognition because there is truly something greater than him that's allowing him to feel the way he does now, here, in this moment. If this feeling is what others get out of religion then Yuri gets it, because he has finally found something he wants to worship too, lets his name leave his lips like a prayer every time he leaves a kiss on his neck “Otabek,” his jaw, “Otabek,” his collarbone, “Ot-a-bek.”

 _I hang my hopes out on the line_  
_Will they be ready for you in time_  
_If you leave them out too long_  
_They'll be withered by the sun_  
_Full stops and exclamation marks_  
_My words stumble before I start_  
_How far can you send emotions?_  
_Can this bridge cross the ocean?_

 _I'm going in for the kill_  
_I'm doing it for a thrill_  
_Oh I'm hoping you'll understand_  
_And not let go of my hand_

Yuri wants to share his high with the man in front of him, wants to infect him with the feelings burning inside him right now. “What about you Otabek?”

“No. I mean, I'm not on anything right now, had to keep a straight head.” His answer is short, stiffled, a bit awkward. Yuri thinks he must have said something wrong to make him tense up like that. He moves his hands back to Otabek’s shoulders, squeezes and rubs them into the muscle there until he feels the other man relax again. “Why is that?”

And shit, Otabek isn't usually so careless but this guy is making him lose his mind, makes him feel drunk on lust and he almost let his cover slip. He scrambles to come up with an excuse before the younger man draped around him get suspicious. “Uh DD for my friends.”

Yuri just smiles, wraps his fingers around the back of his neck and pulls him down towards his level until his lips are even with Otabek’s ear. He leaves a few open mouth kisses on his neck, teasing him and edging him closer, still refusing to let their lips make any contact until finally biting down on the lobe of his ear and whispering “You wanna go somewhere more private?”

And fuck if that isn’t the sexiest thing Otabek has ever had someone say to him. It isn’t just the words, although those were great too, but it’s this guy and his voice and the way he teases Otabek with every movement, the way he knows exactly what to do to get him riled up. Otabek has never been one to believe in fate, but he’s having a hard time explaining how someone as perfect for him as Yuri could exist otherwise and be in his arms.

 _I'm going in for the kill_  
_I'm doing it for a thrill_  
_Oh I'm hoping you'll understand_  
_And not let go of my hand_

Yuri takes his hand before walking away from the pit, weaving between the other party goers until they’re free of the crowd. He doesn’t stop there though, instead he continues turning and pulling Otabek out towards the tree line. They aren’t too far in - Yuri can still hear the music, can still feel the bass pulse through him - when he stops and pushes Otabek up against a trunk.

He lets his mouth crash against Otabek’s neck, nipping and biting, leaving angry red welts in his wake. He lets his teeth graze along the exposed flesh, hard enough to leave marks but not break the skin. He’s taking his time, kissing over every inch of him he can, tasting the salt of his skin, loving the way he can feel Otabek tremble against him. He wants Otabek to remember this tomorrow, wants to mark him up so everyone knows Yuri was here.

 _I'm going in for the kill_  
_I'm doing it for a thrill_  
_Oh I'm hoping you'll understand_  
_And not let go of my hand_

He lets his hands graze against the taut skin beneath Otabek’s shirt, feels the muscles ripple beneath his fingers in response. He pulls back, teasing a kiss, leaning in then pulling back over and over again until Otabek whines in protest and pulls him close, letting their mouths finally connect. It’s hot and wet, but Yuri holds back, keeps it slow and languid, wants to relish every sensation, every taste. He lets one hand dip into the waistband of Otabek’s jeans, earning a whimper from the man beneath him. He wraps his fingers around his cock, gives it a few experimental strokes until he’s throbbing and hard in his hand. He pulls back, runs the palm of his hand over the slit of the head, teases him in the best way. His other hand finds its way to the button, pops it open, pulls down the zipper until he can get his hand and the dick in it free from the confines of Otabek's boxers.

“Yuri are you sure? I don't want you to think... to think I'm just trying to get in your pants while you're rolling. And I don't have stuff on me either so unless you do, I don't know - _fuck_ \- how we're gonna make this work.” The words tumble out of his mouth between gasps and breathy moans. Yuri is overwhelming his senses and he wants nothing more than to rip his clothes off and do any one of a number of filthy things to him. But Otabek doesn’t want to assume things, doesn’t want to rush into this and have Yuri regret it when he comes down from this high. He knows it would be fucking awful to stop now that he’s hard and dripping and Yuri’s hand is so fucking warm and tight and good, but it’s better than ruining his shot of seeing this guy again.

“Fuck man are you for real? You're sweet and I'm horny, don't think so much about it. Besides, I'm not gonna fuck you in the woods. There are other ways I can make you feel good though.” Yuri punctuates the thought by rutting against his leg, his own erection pressing against Otabek’s thigh through his tight leather pants. He points his toes, lifting up onto them before setting his heels back down, up and down in sync to the music in the distance, over and over, letting the friction build slowly, losing himself to the sensations. He moves his hand along Otabek’s length to the same rhythm, slow but sure, edging them both closer to climax. His other hand snakes up the side of Otabek’s arm, trails over his shoulder, wraps loosely around his neck before giving a light squeeze. Otabek moans in response, and Yuri takes it as a sign that this guy likes a little pain with his pleasure, so he lets it travel further up, weaving into the inky strands hanging wildly above his undercut, combs it all over to one side before flexing his fingers and giving it a rough tug that teeters on the edge between good and bad, drowns Otabek in the conflicting sensations.

“What do you like? When you do this for yourself, how do you like it?” Yuri’s voice is barely a whisper, but he’s close just from moving against Otabek, and he wants to make sure he gets there too. Otabek doesn’t say anything in return, can’t form any coherent thoughts, instead he wraps his own hand around Yuri’s smaller one, moves it up to the head before dragging it down slowly to the hilt. He adds a bit more pressure but Yuri keeps him from speeding up, wanting to time things so they cum together. He can feel that familiar sensation coiling in the pit of his stomach, feels his toes start to curl, his thighs start to tremble. Something wet and cold hits his shoulder, another landing on the top of his head a minute later. The air had hung heavy with moisture all night, and the light spring sprinkle feels good against their heated skin. They don’t try to escape, instead they let it mix in with the other sensations: the heat of their bodies pressed against each other, the sting of bites and scratches across their skin, the sounds of their labored breathing, the friction of their hands wrapped around one another, the vibrations of the bass rippling through their core, the chill of the damp air where they're left exposed.

 _Let's go to war_  
_To make peace_  
_Let's be cold_  
_To create heat_  
_I hope in darkness_  
_We can see_  
_And you're not blinded by the light from me_

Otabek can't help the moan that escapes through thin lips, relishing in the way his senses are overwhelmed by this moment of desire. And fuck that voice, that sexy deep voice, is making Yuri lose his mind and it takes him all the self-control he has to keep himself from losing it right then.

“Fuck man, I’m close.” The words slip out of his mouth against his control and suddenly it’s all too much, feels too good and Yuri thinks he might die if he drags this out any longer so he bites down hard on Otabek’s shoulder to muffle his moans.

“Otabek. It’s Otabek. I want you to say my name Yuri, want to hear you say it when you come undone.” And fuck if that sentence doesn’t go straight to Yuri’s cock. He feels it twitch in response to the command and it’s all it takes for the pressure to bubble over, for his vision to blur. When he can’t take the tension anymore he reaches his other hand into his pants, grabs his own member and gives it a few hard fasts thrusts until he’s coming undone, letting Otabek take over their shared hands and stroke himself to completion too. He removes his teeth from the man's shoulder, let's the name stumble out of his mouth, over and over until his throat feels dry and raw.

They don't move to pull away, choosing instead to stay pressed up against each other, Otabek's back against the tree supporting them both. Their breathing is ragged, their bodies are trembling, and Yuri thinks he can fucking hear his heart beating out loud over the music - wonders if Otabek’s heart is beating loudly too.

He wants to ask but before he gets the chance another drop hits his skin, but this one is larger and it’s followed by another seconds later, and another after that. Before they’ve even had a chance to catch their breath the sprinkle has turned into a flash downpour. Yuri’s first thought is to tuck himself up against Otabek and hide out under the tree, but then he realizes that his shit is in the tent and it is definitely not waterproof. He looks up to Otabek, see his eyes are clouded with lust, his mouth hung open with release, dick still hanging limply out of his undone pants. His skin is covered in marks, hair pulled over to the side. He looks completely fucked out, and Yuri has never been so proud of his handiwork. He wants to stay here and enjoy their post coital glow, but he can’t avoid the situation they’re in, and Otabek must have finally snapped out of it and come to the same conclusion, because his mouth closes to a tight lipped frown when he looks up at the sky likes it's personally wronged him.

“Shit, my stuff, fuck Yuri that was amazing but if I don’t get back now-” Yuri reaches up and kisses him to silence his concerns. Pulls back and gives him a lazy smile before turning to walk away.

“It’s cool dude, same. I need to get to my tent before my shit gets wrecked. You might want to tuck yourself back in before heading back though.” He gives him a wink then turns and jogs back toward his stuff, hoping he can get it all in the car and then wait the downpour out. When he gets to the tent - or at least the spot he swore the tent had been in - he finds nothing but wet dirt that’s quickly turning to mud. He looks around frantically, hoping he’d just remembered their spot wrong, when he notices headlights flashing at him.

“Yuri, get your ass in the car, we’ve been looking for you for ten minutes. We have your stuff, packed it and all of the rest of the shit up when the sprinkling started. Weather report says it’s going to rage all night so we’re headed back. Now get in so we can go.” Georgie looks pissed - his shirt is soaked through, hair clinging to his face - and the black eyeliner running down his cheeks only adds to the pathetic scene. Yuri looks back to the tree, hoping to catch sight of Otabek, but he’s nowhere to be found. Yuri knows he can’t make them wait for him to hunt the guy down, so he gives up with a frustrated sigh before piling in the back seat between Yuuri and Phichit. They look pretty upset too, but seem to be mostly dry. He wonders what their deal is but chalks it up to the rain ruining everything.

Otabek watches as Yuri runs off, a promise to find him again left unsaid on his tongue. He gets himself together and makes it back to the stage in time to help pack up the rest of his gear, grateful they’d set up the equipment under an old trellis. It takes a while to make sure everything is dried and put away in his car properly, and by the time they’re done there are only a handful of party goers left. Otabek looks at the crowd, hoping there’s a small chance Yuri was still around, but knowing it’s unlikely. As he walks back to the small guest house he feels his heart sink and can’t help but want to punch himself in the face for not getting the guys number, or at least his last name. He’s still trying to process the events that unfolded, unable to believe it was true.

He met the most beautiful guy he’s ever seen, he got to spend the night dancing up against him, and then he just gave him the best hand job he’s ever had - in the woods, under the stars, while listening to the music that he decided to play. It was like a fucking fantasy, and now he finds himself alone, feeling like it had all just been in his head.

Otabek doesn't believe in fate, but it certainly feels like someone played a cruel joke on him tonight.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I consider this the end of part 1.


	7. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Flashback - Calvin Harris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And part 2. Minor time skip.

It's been months since they all last got together and Yuri and Yuuri both have a dire itch that needs to be scratched. Phichit hadn't come around much since the renegade, and Yuri eventually got Yuuri to admit they had decided not to hook up anymore. He doesn't press the issue, can tell it's a sore subject that's left Yuuri with one less best friend and a lot of sexual frustration. Yuri hasn't had any luck in the fuck buddy department either so he can relate. They'd gone out of course, but bars and clubs just don't give the same satisfaction as an event or pop up, didn't have the same vibe. People were too desperate, too drunk, and definitely too sloppy. They didn't have the same motivation; most were looking for a quick fuck, not someone to ride that high with until sunrise.

It's good to have the entire group back together: they've brought three tents this time so everyone had a bit more room for the weekend. Yuuri is the first one out of the car, getting the tent ready and making sure everything is in order and accounted for. Before he even has a chance to ask him where he's headed, Yuri is out of the car running towards the Electric Forest, hoping to get a spot in line at the body painting tent before the crowds show up. He's back half an hour later, looking dejected. He sulks up to Yuuri before throwing himself down into the tent dramatically.

“They said they're not opening up until tomorrow because someone lost half the paints.” The way he's acting, the world might as well have ended but Yuuri gets it - he's been talking about the body painting since last year.

“Sorry love, we'll just have to be first ones there tomorrow.” Yuuri sits down beside him, pulls his head into his lap, runs his fingers through his hair. They stay like that for a few minutes until Phichit knocks on the tent, awkwardly announcing his arrival.

“Uh hey guys, we're all gonna walk around and get the lay of the land. You two wanna join?” He stays hovering just outside the flap, not committing to entering fully.

“Might as well.” They crawl out of the tent before heading towards the festival with the others. Other groups are milling about the campsite as well, and Yuri can't help but take the masses in. It's the first time since the last renegade that he's felt a sense of belonging, since he's found himself surrounded by others seeking the same release as him. He doesn't miss the fact that most of them are also very attractive and scantily clad twenty somethings. He doesn't miss the fact, but it's an underwhelming observation - as far as Yuri's concerned, it's unlikely he'll get with any of them.

Realistically, there are probably tens of thousands of people here, and even if only a small percentage of them are attractive single men who are down to hook up with another dude, then Yuri should still have some pretty good odds of getting some this weekend. But that’s the not the problem, not really. The problem is that even with those hundreds of potential fuck buddies out there, Yuri can’t get his mind off the last guy he hooked up with, can’t forget the way it felt to press his body up against his, the way the guy said his name, the way he ran his hands through his hair. Fuck they didn’t even have sex and Yuri still can’t get his mind off him, can’t shake the hope that there’s a small chance he’s here and will magically run into him again.

Phichit's busy snapping photos of all the sights, getting a few group shots and some selfies to round it out. He notices the blonde stewing silently beside him as they walk and tries to think of a way to pull him out of his head. He already has an album worth of shots taken, but a few more can't hurt, especially with Yuri in them. He doesn't post much to his own account, and Phichit’s followers always go crazy when the other man shows up in his photos.

“Yuri, get your hot ass over here, we're taking a selfie.” Yuri scowls but walks over without any protest - they both know he secretly loves the attention. He lets his sunglasses flip up part way, just enough to get a peek at his bright green eyes. His hair is pulled up into a topknot, a few loose strands framing his face where they've fallen out from the thick geometric headband. His black tank hugs all the right places of his toned chest, his favorite gray bandana tied around his neck. Phichit looks pretty good too - yellow tank, rainbow shades, and he's perfected the playful come hither smirk plastered across his face.

He throws on his favorite filter - Lark always gives that chill California vibe off - and a few tags before sending it off to his thousands of groupies.

**Phichit+chu**

**Ready to get crazy with this dude @yuri-piroshki**

**#LIB #we’re hot and we know it #festival season is my favorite season**

After a few hours of walking the grounds, they head back and set up around their site for the evening, building a nice fire in the middle. Phichit settles into the lovesac before pulling out his phone and opening up his Instagram feed. He scrolls through the comments on his photo with Yuri mindlessly, most complementing the duo's appearance, some lamenting how much they wanted to be there too, until one jumps out at him. He doesn't know all of his followers - there's just too many to be able to keep track - but this guy is clearly not the usual type and more over, his comment is weirdly specific.

**Ota-tin: Looking good Yuri - I'm at LIB too. Maybe we can meet up and you could earn back your sex panther bracelet.**

Phichit reads the comment three times before deciding to show it to the man beside him.

Yuri stares at the offending comment, brows pulled tight, eyes glaring at the words in front of him. He hasn't been able to get his mind off this guy for months and somehow he's now here at the same festival and has tracked him down. He's spent the last few months pining over this dude, and now that he's found him he throws out a casual comment for the world to see instead of sending him a message or trying to actually get a hold of him? He can't believe the balls this guy has - they haven't had any contact since that night at the renegade, and now that he finds him he starts off with this?

He gives Phichit his phone back before taking out his own. If Otabek wants to do this on social media, then Yuri's going to show him how it's done. He walks over to the sign hovering over their campsite, the name Morro Rock elegantly scrolled across a piece of wood. He angles the camera to get a good shot of himself, making sure the sign is still legible in the background.

He posts the photo immediately.

**yuri-piroshki**

**@Ota-tin come find me then.**

And that's it - no filter, no cryptic message, no clever hashtags. Yuri plays to win. He'd very much like to meet up with Otabek again and this time he'd like to get off properly so he doesn't see the point in being coy. He follows Otabek's account as well for good measure.

35 seconds later there's a single comment on the photo, and it sends shivers down Yuri's spine straight to his dick.

**Ota-tin: Be there in 30 minutes. Don't run off this time.**

xXxXxXx

He expects to see Otabek show up in his leather jacket and his clean white tee, maybe some combat boots on too. It isn't just that he wore that outfit the night they met, it's basically the same outfit he wears in all of his Instagram photos. Granted he rarely posts any and most Yuri found are on others accounts with him tagged, but still that jacket and his bad boy look are a constant. So you can't really blame Yuri for being so caught off guard when he barely recognizes the dude that walks up next to him.

First thing he notices is he's short - or at least shorter than he remembered. When he looks down he sees the guy is in rainbows, so the boots must have given him some added height that's missing now. The second thing he notices is how gorgeous his tan skin is now that there's so much of it exposed for him to take in. Those grey shorts are hugging him just right and the dark blue tank clings to him from the heat and Yuri is so, so thankful that it's summer now. Otabek was sexy as fuck to begin with, but somehow under the cool clothes is this ripped powerful body and he's always had a thing for guys who look like they could throw him over their shoulder and carry him back to their proverbial cave.

He's even more caught off guard when the guy opens his mouth, because he definitely doesn't expect his first words to be, “Yuri, I can't believe I finally found you.”

Even with his olive skin tone and darkness settling in for the night, Yuri can still notice the faint blush that spreads over Otabek's cheeks after his greeting. He also can't help but notice the way he averts his eyes, how he chews on his bottom lip, the shy smile on his face. If he didn't already have evidence this guy was a verified sex God he'd think he was a blushing virgin by the way he's behaving. At the rate this is going Yuri may end up the one carrying Otabek back to his cave.

_I'm coming round and now my vision is so clear_  
_If I could change my state of mind, then I would disappear_  
_The love I get from you is something I can't chance_  
_And I could let you slip away, without a second glance_

“So, you gonna make me earn back that bracelet or what?” He takes a step towards the other man and lets his hand wander down across his arm suggestively, trying to make his interest clear. He can feel Otabek shudder under his touch and in this moment he wants nothing more than to hear him beg for Yuri to pick back up where they left things off. What he gets instead is very different.

“Uh yeah, sorry about that. I uh, I was just scrolling through the LIB tag and out of nowhere I see your face staring back at me and I just kinda, couldn't believe it? Like I had completely given up on ever seeing you again and then there you were on my phone…” His eyes are glazed over, his voice full of wonder. When he thinks back to the night he met Yuri, it all feels so hazy, like trying to remember a dream just after you've woken up. And now that he's here in the flesh before him, Otabek can't help but feel like he's staring at a phantom, a vision from his dreams that's manifested.

_This is like a flashback_  
_This is like a dream_  
_This is like all the things you can fit inside a memory_

“I wanted to see you again but I thought it might weird to you if I just started following you out of the blue, like you'd think I just searched the internet for you like a stalker. And I might have panicked a bit maybe, I mean just cause I wanted you to think I was cool. And I thought if I made it seem more casual and flirty you'd be more likely to respond? So yeah, that's why I commented on your friends photo instead about the sex panther thing. In hindsight it came off a bit uh, pervy I think. My bad.” The words are rushed and he's rambling by the end, but he needs Yuri to know the truth, needs to convey just how damn affected he is by this guy. He looks down at his feet, taking an unshakable interest in his shoes, doing everything in his power to stay focused on the ground instead of meeting the eyes of the man in front of him.

Yuri, on the other hand, can't take his eyes off Otabek. He can't take his eyes off him because he can't move. He also can't respond, or pull his jaw that's fallen open in shock shut. Hell he can't do anything really because he's struggling just to digest what he just heard. He's struggling, because what the fuck? Seriously, what the actual fuck? Can he really believe that this dude has been thinking about him all this time too? Can he really believe that he was afraid Yuri would feel weird if he followed him even though Yuri definitely spent more than one night drunkenly scouring every social media platform he had access to for a guy named Otabek only to come up empty handed every time? Did he actually just admit that he was so nervous when he finally found him that he sent a stupid comment just to get his attention? How can this guy be sex personified and the biggest socially awkward dork Yuri has ever met all at once?

“Dude, whaaaaat?” The words barely stumble out of his mouth before he groans and slaps a hand to his forehead thinking _‘ohh, well done Yuri, super eloquent response right there, now he's gonna think you're the dweeb.’_ Only somehow when he finally looks up Otabek is staring back at him with a gentle smile and a deep blush, and those eyes Yuri wants to melt into are reflecting the light from the campfire beside them. He won't admit it, but Yuri's got a matching smile across his own face and he can't help but feel so damn fond of this dude, this incredibly open and honest dude who may be a huge dork but also somehow still gets him hard.

_This is like a flashback_  
_This is like a dream_  
_This is like all the things you can fit inside a memory_

“Uh yeah, I probably shouldn't have told you all that. No, I definitely should not have told you all that.” Otabek looks away, once again averting direct eye contact, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. Before he can even register it consciously Yuri is laughing, out right cackling and sobbing and there are tears spilling over as he grabs his sides that ache from trembling because this can't seriously be happening right now but it _is_. Somehow the stars have aligned and brought them together again, only this time Yuri gets to see the real Otabek, not the fantasy that he’s built up in his mind and somehow, despite being a bit shy and a lot awkward, it makes Yuri want him even more. Otabek finally looks back at him, and while he's still embarrassed his shoulders have finally released their tension and he eventually finds himself laughing right along with Yuri before too long.

“No, you probably shouldn't have, but I'm glad you did. It makes this less awkward.” Otabek doesn't get a chance to ask Yuri what he means before the blonde has his arms looped around his neck, pulling his face towards his own. When their lips finally meet Yuri can't help the sigh that escapes him, can't hold back the thoughts of _good_ and _warm_ and _finally_ that cloud his mind. He's spent the last few months wandering through the desert, and Otabek's mouth is a welcome oasis.

Yuri isn't one for public displays of affection, especially when sober, but there's something about this guy that makes him crazy in all the best ways. He finally pulls back, pulling Otabek's bottom lip between his teeth for good measure before letting it fall back into place.

“Yeah you uh, definitely earned it back.” Otabek knows it's a cheesy line, but so far being his weird self seems to be working so he's gonna keep going with it until Yuri gives him a reason to pause.

“You haven't seen anything yet man.” And fuck if that doesn't fill Otabek's mind with all kinds of filthy thoughts he'd very much like to turn into actions. Preferably right now.

_This is like a flashback_  
_This is like a dream_  
_This is like all the things you can fit inside a memory_

“Why don't you give me your number then, so I don't have to track you down again.” He tries to play it cool, keep it light, but there's a desperate plea underneath and he really hopes Yuri doesn't hear it.

“Alright, but you have to give me yours in exchange, it's only fair.” And hell, Yuri doesn't have to ask, Otabek's pretty sure he'd give him anything he asked for at this point.

“Deal.” They both pull out their phones, exchanging numbers. Yuri pulls up the lineup after, rattles off all the artists he wants to watch, all the tents he wants to experience, all the venues he wants to explore over the next three days. Otabek just nods along silently, feigning interest. It suddenly occurs to Yuri that he hasn’t asked Otabek at all about who he’s here with or what he wants to do, or most importantly where his bed is.

“Wait, where are you guys staying?” The question is phrased innocently enough, but it puts Otabek on edge. He doesn't want to lie to Yuri, but he also doesn't know how to explain why he's staying in the ritzy glamping village. He figures a white lie never hurt anyone.

“Well I'm actually not here with anyone, I kinda got given the ticket by a friend who couldn't make it last minute. I'm staying in High Water since they'd already paid for everything.” It's not a whole lie - he was invited to play his set last minute after another DJ dropped out, and he was given a free spot in the village as a result of agreeing. It just so happens the friend is another relatively famous DJ and he's sharing the tent with Victor, but Yuri doesn't have to know the specifics.

“No shit man? Well I'd be happy to keep you company tonight so you're not alone.” Yuri lets the words roll off his tongue sweetly, dripping with the promise of a good time. Otabek really should have seen this coming, should have expected Yuri to want to stay with him even if it was just to hook up. He also should have realized Yuri would want to know why he was declining to spend the night together after admitting he'd been looking for him for months. He should have, but he didn't, and now he has to find a way to leave for the networking dinner he's already committed to without tipping him off to his identity.

“That sounds great Yuri, seriously, but is it alright if we wait until tomorrow? I've been traveling all day and I'm honestly about to crash. I was already getting set up for bed when you tagged me.” And again, it's not a lie, he really has been traveling all day. Yuri doesn't look convinced though, so before he can say anything else Otabek adds, “Trust me, I won't be any fun. Let's meet up tomorrow when I'm not so dead on my feet. I promise I’ll more than make it up to you.” And that last bit is all it takes for Yuri to smile and agree, a silent understanding between them.

“See you tomorrow then Otabek.” Yuri punctuates the farewell with a coy kiss to the side of his mouth. Otabek tries to catch his lips with his own but Yuri's too quick: the gesture is meant to entice but not reward. If Otabek wants more he'll have to come back for it, and that's exactly what Yuri is hoping for.

“Tomorrow Yuri, keep your phone with you. If you don't answer I may just show up looking for you.” Once Otabek leaves, Yuri realizes that he's pretty beat too, so he decides to turn in for the night. He looks around the campsite but Yuuri isn't anywhere to be found. He doesn't think too much about it, he's probably still at the main stage dancing. He climbs into his half of the tent, making sure to leave plenty of room for Yuuri once he joins him. Otabek and the promise of tomorrow are the last thoughts on his mind before he passes out.


	8. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Cold - Alison Wonderland  
> Only Good Mistake - Alpha 9 feat. Koven (I’m so flipping excited Arty is releasing as Alpha 9 again!!!)
> 
> Pairs: Victuuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is a bad bitch.

Yuuri didn’t intend to get this wasted. Sure, he was frustrated after seeing Phichit because that tank top was doing wonderful things for his toned chest, and those shorts - well, suffice to say he looked pretty damn good. And yes, he may have had a few shots with Mila to take his mind off of the fact that Phichit looked sexy and happy and Yuuri had put on a couple pounds and spent the last few months lamenting his lack of game with ice cream and movie marathons. But he 100% did not mean to get shit faced, only now he’s aware that he definitely is because he’s dancing at the main stage and he has no idea where the rest of his friends are.

 _Now it's just me and this Grey Goose_ __  
_Up in the club I let love loose_ __  
_I see you walk into the room_  
We don't speak, cause it's too soon

It’s not fair to say he didn’t have any offers that entire time - there were more than enough chances with guys at bars - but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted someone who got him, someone who was ready to just let loose with him. He wanted intimacy without commitment, someone he could be himself with, someone he could rage with, but also someone who was willing to take the time to get to know him, someone who cared about him as more than just a one night fuck buddy but didn’t want to date him. The longer he let himself think about it, the clearer it became that he wanted Phichit without the drama, but that was unrealistic. __  
__  
_And I knew it when I met you_ __  
_That you have to have it in you_ __  
_And I knew it when I met you_ __  
_You would fuck it up_  
You would fuck it up

So now here he is, dancing alone on the outskirts of the pit. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s been able to just let go like this, to give in to that part of himself that wants nothing more than to sway his hips along to a gritty track, to throw his arms in the air, to throw his body forward with the drop, to press his feet into the ground and really feel it beneath him as he moves. Anyone who knew Yuuri from his classes and work would be shocked to see him like this, to see mild mannered Yuuri covered in glitter and sweat and vodka, to see the hard worker they all know writhing around like a bitch in heat trying to find a mate.

 _Cause I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool for this_ __  
_I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool for this_ __  
_I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool_  
I'm too cool for this, I'm cold, cold, cold

But then those people don’t really know Yuuri, don’t know where he came from or his life before college. They don’t know about Yuuko, about how in love with her was for all those years. They don’t know that he poured all of himself into their relationship, into loving that girl. They definitely don’t know that Yuuri found her making out with Takeshi in his very own bed that time he threw a house party to impress her. And no one, not a single soul other than Yuri, knows about the conversation they had afterward when she told him she needed “more of a man.”

They probably don’t know that college was Yuuri’s rebirth, his chance to be someone cooler, sexier, better. It was the first time he let himself accept that he wasn’t the alpha male type, wasn’t the brute that ruled the pack. For the first time, he let himself be the seductress instead of trying to seduce, let himself revel in the looks other dudes gave him that he’d always tried to hide or shy away from before in his small hometown where people talked too much.

The Yuuri they all know is a smart, confident, respectable chemistry student. No, those people don’t know Yuuri at all, because if they did, then he thinks they’d probably leave too.

 _Come get your clothes and leave the key_ __  
_Don't need your insecurity_ __  
_You're a good guy who makes mistakes_ __  
_Wish I could tell you my heart aches_  
But it doesn’t

Yuuri shakes the thoughts away, lets himself relax again. This is his time right now to be himself, his time to let the world fuck off.  If he’s lucky, he’ll find a dude to end the night with, someone to enjoy for the next few days with would be even better. The thing is, people have always told him that college is where you find your soulmate, where you fall in love. His parents expect him to finish grad school, get a job, get married, buy a house, and make kids. They definitely would not approve of him fucking around casually at this age when he should be trying to find Mrs. Right - and don’t even get him started on trying to explain to them that it could be Mr. Right instead. And Yuuri always bought into it, always thought something was wrong with him because this shit is what you’re supposed to do and who is he to change that?

Only for the first time in his life, Yuuri has realized that he isn’t on a predestined timeline, that twenty-three is not old. Twenty three is still pretty damn young and he has all the time in the world to settle down but only a few more months of being surrounded by other hot people his age. He only has a few months, because once grad school ends he’ll be in the real world. He’ll be thrust into adulthood, and he’ll have to try to form real relationships again which sounds terrifying because a part of him thinks he won’t be able to.

 _And I knew it when I met you_ __  
_That you have to have it in you_ __  
_And I knew it when I met you_ __  
_You would fuck it up_  
You would fuck it up

And that’s what this is all really about, that’s why he’s drunk and dancing alone and pissed off. This is it, his last hurrah, his last shot to just let himself have whatever the universe brings him because the outside world expects quiet, respectful, hard working Yuuri to show up, not this hot mess. This is his last shot to focus on being himself, fucking around and dancing out his frustration.

Once this weekend is over he has to go home and pack his shit. He has to tell Yuri that once he graduates next month, he’s accepted a job in LA that he’ll have to move for. He has to leave this world they’ve built together even though he doesn’t want to. Yuuri has to give all this up because adults don’t do this type of thing, because he doesn’t think he has a choice. So he’s going to roll his hips, run his hands up and down his body, entice the men around him with his silent siren's call. He’s going to find someone he doesn’t give a fuck about so he can let himself be real without worrying if they’ll judge him for it. He’s going to keep his sex life separate from his professional one and make sure they never cross paths. And that’s why he can’t commit, why he can’t give Phichit what he wants - there are two sides to Yuuri, and they can’t coexist. So his lovers will have to be just that - lovers, not boyfriends - if he’s going to be able to be real with them, to show them this side of himself.

 _Cause I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool for this_ __  
_I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool for this_ __  
_I'm too cool for this, I'm too cool_  
I'm too cool for this, I'm cold, cold, cold

He scans the crowd, takes in the people around him. Mostly everyone is coupled off, but there are a handful of solos and third wheels around too. The first guys aren’t his type - too much frat bro, not refined enough. There’s a hot silver haired guy in the corner that’s by himself, simply bobbing along to the beat. He’s dressed casually - dark jeans, a simple track jacket - but there’s an air about him that makes him seem unapproachable, unattainable.

_‘Challenge accepted.’_

Yuuri makes his way closer discretely, taking advantage of each song to dance his way over. He thinks his dancing is seductive, but given how drunk he is, it’s more likely he’s flailing about like a fish out of water. The man hasn’t even spared him a pacing glance as far as he can tell, and there’s a good chance he’s not even interested in men, so this could definitely be a crap shoot. Part of Yuuri thinks he should pack it in, accept defeat and head back, but he’s probably past the point of remembering any of this tomorrow anyway so he might as well enjoy it and go big.

He makes the final move to close the distance, and the man finally looks over at him. They make eye contact, but instead of looking irritated or angry, the man gives him a shy smile and little wave and ‘oh’ that is definitely not what Yuuri expected.

“Hi, you want a commemorative photo?” Yuuri stares at the man, jaw slack with confusion. The guy has an accent, so maybe the question is lost in translation?

“I just saw you looking at me and figured you wanted a photo or autograph or something, that’s what most people want.” He gives a small chuckle, but Yuuri can hear the sadness behind it.

“I uh…” Yuuri really takes in the man in front of him then, scans his eyes up and down and he knows this dude is familiar, but he can’t quite place him. Still, he was friendly about taking a photo, so Yuuri might as well play along.

“Uh yeah, sure, I mean yes! Please, I’d like to get a picture with you.” And so much for being the seductress, for picking this dude up. Yuuri feels like that fumbling teenage boy again and it makes him cringe but the smile on this guy’s face only gets bigger and his eyes light up and fuck if it isn’t worth looking like a fool to make someone that happy.

“Great! You know, I wasn’t sure I’d be recognized here, it’s been quite a while since I was in the public eye as a performer. I thought maybe the world had forgotten about me. Not that I don’t love being a manager, I really do, but as much as I hated the limelight, I still miss it sometimes. It was all I knew for so long.” And he’s saying way too much and giving Yuuri this look like he’s expecting something, only Yuuri can’t focus on anything except this guy’s accent and the way his name teeters on the edge of his mind, only to disappear every time he gets close to remembering. A few moments pass and Yuuri still can’t remember, but the guy is still staring at him, only now he looks a bit confused and maybe a little concerned and _shit_ , Yuuri forgot about the photo, no wonder he looks that way. It takes a few seconds for Yuuri’s vodka stained mind to catch up, but when it does it goes straight for laying on the charm and thank goodness alcohol makes him bold because there’s no way he could get through this awkward moment otherwise.

“How could people forget a face like yours?” And maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say because this guy is obviously a musician and Yuuri should be complimenting his talent not his looks. Only Yuuri still doesn’t know who he is so it’s hard to guess what genre he plays. The social faux pas seems to go right over the attractive foreigners head though, and he’s smiling again only now there’s a nice rosy red color painting his cheeks and Yuuri would love to see other parts of his body take on that blush too.

“Well thank you, uh…” he holds his hand out towards Yuuri, palm turned up, gesturing towards him. And Yuuri shouldn’t be so impressed that this guy has game only he is because he’s found a way to get his name without it being direct and that is an experienced man’s play if he’s ever seen one.

“Yuuri, Yuuri Katsuki. I’d ask your name, but we both already know it.” He gives Victor a playful wink, then gently drapes his hand on the other man’s shoulder, testing the waters. He doesn’t pull away, just stares at the hand for a moment before lifting his own hand to the small of Yuuri’s back and pulling his body in towards his own.

“So, you gonna take that photo or what Yuuri?” There’s a lightness to his voice, a playful teasing and Yuuri just met this guy but something about him makes his head spin in a way that vodka never has.

“Depends, will you take your arm off me if I do?” And thank god he’s spent the last five years perfecting his best pick up lines because this man is a pickup artist if he’s ever met one.

“Haha oh my Yuuri, I like your spirit. I was watching you earlier you know. Honestly, it was hard to keep my eyes off of you, the way you move, it excited me. I haven’t felt that way in a long time. So many kids now run from stage to stage, never committing to the experience fully, never giving the artist any respect. They’re all just searching out the hottest photo op to post online instead of experiencing the moment for what it is. But I could tell you were different, could tell you were looking for something else.” He’s right beside Yuuri but somehow he sounds far away, like he’s talking more to himself than the other man. Yuuri gets it though, he can only imagine all the memories Victor must have from his years in the scene.

“I was. I mean, I am. But what about you, what are you doing here?” And that’s the real question, what in the world is this obviously famous dude doing in the crowd at a small festival like this.

“Ah right, well it’s a last minute lineup change, but one of the artists I represent is performing Sunday so I’m here for support, technical and moral.”

“Which one?!” The exclamation leaves Yuuri’s mouth before he can stop it. Victor just giggles, tightens his arm around Yuuri’s waist.

“It’s a surprise, but if you promise not to tell anyone, I could give you a hint.” He’s got that Cheshire cat grin back again, mischief strewn over all his features.

“Trust me, I’m very good at keeping secrets.” Yuuri runs a hand up his chest, lets it linger there for a moment, gives Victor his best come hither expression.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. Let’s just say he’s on his way to gold.” And Victor winks at him and suddenly it’s all so clear - the guy’s name, who he is, what he is.

“Zoloto?” Yuuri already knows the answer, solved the riddle that’s standing in front of him only he has to be sure because if he’s right, this is a very big deal.

“My lips are sealed.” And then the man leans forward and gives him a kiss on the cheek and that’s all he needs to confirm it. The enormity of the situation comes crashing down on him, the realization that he’s been talking to DJ VicNik for ten minutes.

Five years ago, when Yuuri first moved to the big city and started his new life, it was VicNik’s music that he’d run home from class to listen to. It was VicNik’s music that was playing the first time he rolled, the first time he and Yuri drove his car along highway 1 at 3 am just to get their heads clear. It was playing the first time he made out with a guy at that frat party, the first time he had sex with Phichit. His music was the soundtrack to Yuuri’s reinvention, and now the man is standing right in front of him.

“Well I’m glad you’re here, you uh, you have no idea how much your music has meant to me, still means to me.” And fuck he’s losing his edge but this is Victor Nikiforov - the man who crafted the musical background to the best moments of his life.

“Why don’t you show me then?” And somehow VIctor is still interested, still flirting, and still very much touching Yuuri and inviting him to show him his appreciation. Now Yuuri is starting to remember _other_ facts he had read about VicNik when he first discovered him - specific facts that are immediately relevant to him. Like his very publicized relationship with a Canadian rock star named JJ, or when the paparazzi caught photos of him naked with a mysterious South Korean guy in Mykonos. He also dated a gorgeous principal ballerina name Minako briefly, so Yuuri knows he isn’t just interested in men, but he remembers running the numbers at the time, and he certainly seems to lean in that direction so statistically, Yuuri might have a shot.

Yuuri doesn’t answer him with words, he does it with his body. He twirls around to the beat, reaches an arm out, points his fingers at him in invitation before pulling them back slowly, enticing him to follow. He gives him his best bedroom eyes, lids hooded, lips parted open just barely, just enough to hint at the pink tongue hiding behind them. The little show seems to have hooked the audience, because Victor is close to him then, moves to pull Yuuri’s backside up against him. He gives a few tentative rolls backwards, can already feel the other man’s arousal pressing up against him.

If this were anyone else he might go along like this, might let them take the lead, only this is Victor Nikiforov and something about the way he lit up when he thought Yuuri recognized him, the way he deflated at the idea he’d been forgotten convinces Yuuri that he should be the one leading Victor, should be the one taking care of him in this moment. This is the producer that gave him every amazing trance song of his late teens, the man who always had to hide from prying eyes just because he created amazing music for the world he loved. The man who eventually stopped producing and started managing because he couldn’t take the pressure of constant shows and travel anymore but wasn’t ready to give up on the industry entirely. The man who goes out of his way to find talented no-name DJs and give them a shot.

Yuuri waits for the song to change, uses it to his advantage to push off from Victor and spin around until they’re facing each other. The man before him takes away his breath - those crystal clear blue eyes are shining and his hair is reflecting the light of the stage, illuminating the air around them in a sea of colors. He’s beautiful and talented and famous and somehow he’s here, dancing with Yuuri, obviously aroused. Yuuri isn’t sure what he’s done right in life for this to happen to him, but he isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yuuri is going to do everything in his power to give back some portion of the joy that Victor’s music has given him.

 _Falling, we're falling serpent,_ __  
_Failing not to see you anymore._ __  
Walking upon a thousand fears.  
I'd take the blame, but you would be the cause.

 _So through it all,_ __  
_I watch you give more than you take._ __  
_Within it all,_ __  
_You're the only good mistake._ __  
_Let it fool with me._  
Oh, it's not meant to be.

He grabs Victors’ hands, steps back extending their arms, then lifts one and spins Victor until he’s facing away. Yuuri pulls him back flush up against him and the height difference is a little awkward but feeling Victor pressed up against him is anything but and he’ll gladly stare at the back of this man’s shoulders if it means keeping him here.

They keep that rhythm for a few more songs until Victor pushes away, subtly asking for release. Yuuri begrudgingly lets him go: he knows that their time together had to come to an end eventually, but it doesn’t make it any easier. He’s about to say goodbye and thank Victor, but instead of turning to leave, he wraps his hands around Yuuri’s neck and drops his forehead to the other man’s. They stand there for what feels like an eternity until Yuuri remembers that breathing is something he really should be doing and he lets out a shuddered breath. Victor just smiles, looks down at Yuuri’s mouth and purrs, “you’ve got such a pretty little mouth Yuuri.”

And holy shit, Victor Nikiforov is hitting on him, and Yuuri can’t even process the events unfolding in front of him. Thankfully, he’s still very much drunk, and vodka is his #1 wingman.

“Well this pretty little mouth is capable of some pretty filthy things.” Victor sucks in an audible breath in surprise and even Yuuri is a bit caught off guard when that comes out of his mouth.  Victor is silent, unmoving. Yuuri starts to panic, afraid that he’d taken it too far, that he’d gone overboard, but when Victor finally releases the breath he’d taken it’s ragged and somewhere between a moan and broken growl and fuck if it isn’t the most beautiful thing Yuuri has ever heard in his life. Victor could record that sound, put it on loop with nothing else and let it run for hours and Yuuri’s convinced he’d make a small fortune on the sales.

 _So through it all,_ __  
_I watch you give more than you take._ __  
_Within it all,_ __  
_You're the only good mistake._ __  
_Let it fool with me._  
Oh, it's not meant to be.

“Want to go back to my tent? Or wherever you’re staying? I promise I’ll make it worth your time.” And this is it, balls to the wall, all in with nothing left to lose.

“I don’t know Yuuri, what if you’re just a crazy fan trying to kidnap me? You wouldn’t believe how many times a guy’s hit on me just to steal my stuff or try and make a secret sex tape.” And he’s teasing again only there’s some truth to it and the words send a shiver of pain through Yuuri because this dude doesn’t deserve half the shit he’s probably put up with.

“What the fuck! People do that? Victor, I’m so sorry, I promise I’m not like that. Fuck I never should have even asked, I must look like such a creep.” The words tumble out in a rush despite Yuuri’s efforts to stop them.

“It’s okay Yuuri, I can tell you’re not like that, I’m just fucking with you. But what exactly do you want from this, what do you want me to be to you? Do you want to have sex with a famous DJ, or are you interested in a one night stand with a nameless Russian traveler?” It’s the same tone as before, teasing with something else riddled in it, something sinister, something corrupted. The fact that Victor thinks he needs to play a role, to be something to Yuuri other than himself breaks his heart.

“I just want someone to be real with Victor, I just want you to be yourself with me, and let me be myself with you.” And there it is, the truth laid bare before them. A drunk Yuuri is an honest Yuuri.

Victor doesn’t say anything, just remains frozen in the moment, eyes open wide, mouth hung open slightly. He’s completely lost his seductive facade, and Yuuri can see the act he’s put on crumble away leaving just the man behind it. There’s something there, something warm and pure and Yuuri wants nothing more than to see more of this side of Victor, the real side that he doubts many others get to see at all.

“Then take me to your tent, Yuuri.” Victor doesn’t say anything else, just laces his fingers in Yuuri’s and trusts him to lead the way.

_‘When I open up, he meets me where I am.’_

xXxXxXx

When Yuri stirs awake, the first thing he notices is that it’s still very dark out, so it must be the middle of the night. The second thing he notices is that he’s not alone.  At first, he thinks it’s just Yuuri talking in his sleep and rolling around restlessly, but just before he tells him to knock it off he hears a sound that is definitely _not_ Yuuri.

“Ahhh fuck, Yuuri. Right there. God, right there.” And wow okay, Yuri definitely did not expect to wake up to someone getting nailed right beside him. And he absolutely did not expect it to be someone he’d never even seen before. Sure, if it had been Phichit or ever someone in the outer circle of friends he wouldn’t have been that surprised - Yuuri’s convinced enough of them to come back to his bed before this. But this is definitely not one of those friends because even though he’s facing away from them he can still hear mystery man’s muffled moans of Yuuri’s heavily accented name.

He tries to tune it out, to cover his ears discreetly because it’s strange enough to listen to your friend fuck someone next to you, but even stranger when you have the same damn name. Only it isn’t enough, because even with his ears covered he realizes he can still feel the ground tremble beneath them with every thrust. It’s erotic in a way, because he’s got front row seats to what sounds like a pretty hot romp, but it’s also a bit weird because they don’t know he’s listening. He’s torn between pretending to sleep, saying something, and rubbing one out, but before he can make up his mind there’s a final utterance of his name and then the trembling stops and all he can hear is heavy breathing. When he feels movement again a few moments later and someone accidentally bumps his leg he uses the opportunity to pretend it’s just now woken him up.

He groans loud enough for them to notice then rubs at his eyes and sits up. It’s dark, but he can just barely make out the shape of a naked Yuuri rustling through his stuff in the corner and another body buried beneath a sleeping back out of his view.  Yuuri turns to look at him and gives him a sheepish grin in apology but doesn’t say anything else. Yuri rolls his eyes and goes back to lie down, deciding to grill his roommate for more information in the morning.

The funny thing about it is most people would be pissed off or at least irritated, but Yuri isn’t. If anything, the entire situation just has him riled up, and now he really can’t wait to meet up with that Otabek guy tomorrow and see if they can make even more noise in his fancy tent.

Like hell he's going to be outdone by Katsuki.


	9. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Seek Bromance - Tim Berg/Avici  
> Closer - Chainsmokers/Halsey
> 
> Mostly Otayuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun, some fluff, some sentimental shit, aaaaaaaaand some angst because angst is my jam.

Yuri is lying on his side next to him, a wicked grin plastered across his face. He’s about to ask what his problem is but then he remembers last night and well, this is probably what he deserved. Only then he suddenly realizes that there should be a third person in the tent with them, and he throws himself upright frantically searching for Victor.

“So, you gonna tell me about mystery man Katsuki? He’s gone, if you hadn’t noticed. I heard him leave around 7.” Yuuri deflates at the news - not that he really expected Victor Nikiforov to stick around, but he at least thought he'd say goodbye.

“Oh. And what time is it now?” He tries to hide his disappointment, but Yuri can sense something is off right away. He doesn’t comment on it though, just answers him casually.

“Almost 9.”

“Right. Well, we better get up and get some breakfast then.”

They throw on simple outfits of shorts and tank tops before setting out to join the rest of the group. The others are already up, cooking sausages and eggs over the campfire. Yuuri crosses over, takes a plate and offers a small thanks before sitting down in a chair off to the side alone. The entire situation is odd for Yuri because Katsuki is usually more than willing to share about his romps. They’ve gone into detail before, compared notes, once Yuuri even told a guy he’d slept with to give Yuri a call instead since they were more sexually compatible (he was right). The point is, they’ve never been shy about sex between them before, but it’s obvious Yuuri doesn’t want to talk about last night with anyone, not even Yuri.

Yuri lets his questions go for another time - Yuuri will come around once he gets some food in him. He grabs his own plate and is about to settle down when he realizes he was so distracted by the identity of Yuuri’s newest fling that he hasn’t checked his phone yet today. He practically drops his food in his haste to get back to his tent, only to find he doesn’t have any messages waiting for him. Maybe Otabek really needed to catch up on sleep after all, or maybe he’s just not a particularly early riser. Either way, he expects to get a text soon, so he stuffs it in his pocket and heads back to finish up his untouched meal.

It’s nearly 11 and the others are all ready to head out, but Yuri still hasn’t heard from Otabek. He wants to be irritated, but he came here to spend time with his friends so he’s going to focus on that instead. If Otabek bothers to show up then he can join in with them - Yuri isn’t going to plan his day around some dude that may or may not be interested in him.

The first stop of the day is, obviously, the body painting tent. Yuri has already missed his chance once, he’s not going to miss it again. By the time they make it there’s already a line, but nothing is going to convince Yuri it isn’t worth the wait. He's only been waiting a few minutes when his phone finally buzzes. He's tempted to ignore it, but when it vibrates a second, third, and fourth time he gives in.

**Otabek: Hey Yuri, I'm so sorry I just now got to you.**

**Otabek: My phone took an unfortunate swim last night.**

**Otabek: I spent all morning trying to find rice to dry it out.**

**Otabek: It just finally turned on a few minutes ago.**

Yuri curses the smile that's set across his face, hates the deep blush staining his cheeks. He tries to forget him, stick to his plans, only there’s something about this guy and he really wants to believe that he didn’t blow him off, that he really spent the morning hunting down rice to dry out his phone so he could text Yuri. He isn’t going to go out of his way, but he could at least give the guy a breadcrumb trail to follow.

**We’re at the body painting tent.**

**Otabek: See you soon Yuri ;)**

They’re next in line when he catches sight of the other man, and if he thought Otabek was attractive before, then there must be something wrong with his eyes because he’s stunning today, all dark hair and cut muscles. His tank covers less skin than before and Yuri can see more ink peeking out, wrapping around his shoulders and he would like very much to get that shirt off of him as soon as possible. Then again, they are about to go in for body painting, so maybe that can be arranged.

“Ready to get some new ink Altin?” Otabek doesn’t have a chance to give a proper response before Yuri grabs his hand and drags him into the tent. Yuri walks up to the woman who waved them in, takes off his shirt and shorts and lies down on the pillows in front of her in nothing but his briefs.  
“I want a tiger, a big one, on my back. I saw you do one like that last year and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You can do whatever you want - I know it’ll be amazing.” The woman just smiles in return, asks him a few follow-up questions before setting to work. Otabek stands by awkwardly before finally settling down on the floor seated beside Yuri, watching as the colors start to paint his back. He can’t take his eyes off the lithe form before him, can’t stop staring at the toned muscle just below. Phichit and Chris are with another artist, getting a few flowers painted on their faces, giggling through the process. Yuuri has decided to wait outside, still not very talkative yet that day. The rest of the group finishes quickly and decides to head off, leaving Yuri and Otabek alone. He’s nearly done when he reaches out and grabs Otabek’s hand, runs his fingers teasingly over the lines of his palm.

“You’re staring. See something you like?”

“Well yeah, I mean, it looks awesome. She’s doing a great job. And you’re uh, a really nice canvas.” It is definitely not a lie - Yuri’s slender, but he’s strong and his ass is perfectly rounded and he would very much like to sink his teeth into that mound of flesh later tonight.

“What about you tattoo boy, got any room left for something new?”

Otabek grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it up and over his head slowly, making sure to give Yuri a good view of his defined chest, his corded arms, the deep set v of his lower abs.

“I got a spot in mind if you have an idea.”

Yuri’s artist allows him to sit up, look over at the man sitting beside him. He takes in the forms that drape over his chest, the dragon tattoo wrapping around his shoulder and down his back, the phoenix that adorns the other side.

“I don’t know man, your work is already so badass, what could we possibly add to it?”

“I appreciate that, but I do have some other skin you know.” He drags his hand along the small of his back, grins at the artist and gives her a wink.

“Tramps stamp it is, get your ass over handsome.”

When they leave half an hour later their shirts are tied into their belts, matching tigers left exposed for the world to see.

They carry on like that the rest of the day, wandering from stage to stage, taking in the sights of the people and the colors. Yuri thinks climbing the rock wall is a great idea, only halfway up it becomes very apparent that Otabek has stopped climbing and is instead hanging off of the wall, clutching onto the pegs for dear life. It isn’t until Yuri’s moved back down and offered his encouragement that Otabek starts moving - slowly - toward the top again. When they’ve hit the bell and repelled back down, Otabek grabs Yuri by the waist and pulls him in hard for a rushed, bruising kiss.

“I’m terrified of heights, that was fucking awful. Let’s never do it again.”

In his defense, Yuri’s had no idea it would spark such a reaction from the other man, but he makes a mental note to find as many ways to get Otabek to be scared again as possible because that kiss was one for the record books.

Otabek thinks it would be a good idea to do something a bit less intense, so they make their way to the vape tent and get a little stoned with some of the others in the back. It’s a nice change of pace, and they’re enjoying reclining on the pillows together, pressing their mouths together slowly, reveling in the lazy kisses. Eventually they get the boot so more can come in, and when a few others around them mention a labyrinth nearby the move to check it out to. They’d expected a simple rock path labyrinth, but this is more like a maze, walls full height blocking their views. They’re not worried - the point of a labyrinth is there’s only one way in and one way out, but somehow between Yuri’s insistent attempts to push Otabek into a corner and suck him off and the fuzzy feeling that’s clouded their minds they find themselves at a loss for how to get back out. It’s okay at first, funny even, but the longer they struggle to find an exit the more paranoid Yuri becomes until he’s on the verge of tears. Otabek doesn’t know him that well yet, but he thinks it might be good to comfort him, so he pulls the smaller man into his arms, rocks them gently for a few minutes until someone comes by and he silently asks them for directions. They give him a gentle wave before turning around, guiding them around the last few turns that stand between them and freedom.

They find a nice shady spot under a tree to sit down after wards, waiting until their heart beats calm down and the world isn’t so foreign anymore.

“I’m terrified of situations where I’m not in control. Let’s never do that again.” Yuri doesn’t make eye contact yet, still a bit rattled by the entire thing.

And even though Otabek feels bad, a part of him can’t help but laugh about how they’re even now.

“Thank you, by the way, for getting us out of that. You’re like, my knight in shining armor. I’ll be sure to reward you later.” He runs a hand down Otabek’s thigh, lets it rest inches away from his member, teasing him over his shorts. He isn’t usually so open with people about his fears, but there’s just something about this guy that makes him want to be honest. There’s something about him he connects to in a way he’s never experienced with any other person he’d ever met.

He doesn't believe in falling in love, but even though they've only hung out a few times, he's pretty sure he's at least in like with this dude because he doesn't just want to fuck him, he actually wants to hang out with him afterwards.  
“You wanna hit up the main stage for a bit or head back to my campsite for dinner?” Yuri isn’t really interested in any of the artists performing right now but he doesn’t want to assume that Otabek is ready to pack it in yet.

“Honestly, heading back to your camp sounds great. I could really use some grub. I kind of skipped breakfast.”

“What, that fancy food at the VIP buffet didn’t interest you?” Yuri doesn’t mean to scoff but this guy has access to the best food on site and he didn’t even bother to try it.

“No, it definitely did, I was just kind of in a rush - maybe - to uh, meet up with this guy. Or something.” Otabek tries to hide the blush behind his hands, rubs at his neck and looks away. He’s adorable when he’s embarrassed, when he tries to hide the way he feels. And there’s that fondness again, creeping up through Yuri, like fire in his veins. This dude must be magic, because no one else has ever turned him on and given him the feels like he does.

 _I've been watching you_  
_You've been hurting too_  
_You give all your love_  
_nothing left to show._  
_I have been there too_  
_Alone in my despair_  
_Watching life go by,_  
_No one whom to share_

A couple of burgers and a few hard ciders later and Yuri and Otabek have taken up a nice spot on the lovesac, nestled into it together. There’s something so damn domestic about being together like this, Yuri in Otabek’s lap, their legs tangled together, hands drawing lazy shapes on the other’s skin. Yuri thinks that this must be what it’s like to feel content - and a part of him would be happy to curl up here and stay forever. Of course that’s just one part of him, another part is telling him to run, get the fuck away from this dude and fuck the next man he sees just for good measure because he’s getting attached and that is dangerous.

 _Boy you got it bad_  
_But I got something good_  
_I will treat you good in every way yeah_  
_You will never feel alone_  
_My touch is such a rush_  
_It over-flows_

“Let’s play never have I ever.” The game - if you can even call it that - is a party favorite of Yuri’s, but only because he, Yuuri, Phichit, and Chris always try to one up each other with their sexploits. Tonight though, he has something else in mind. It’s childish maybe, but if it gets Otabek to open up to him a bit more, then he’ll at least have a better idea of where this dude is from and if he’s getting in over his head.

“How about twenty questions instead.” And that’s how Yuri finds out that Otabek has been arrested, gone streaking, had a threesome, and broken both his arms. It’s also how Otabek discovers that Yuri is an only child, has a cat he loves more than life itself, is studying to be a vet, and wants to move up to the Pacific Northwest after school. In retrospect, Otabek used his questions to coax a lot of personal information out of Yuri while Yuri’s just found out that Otabek’s kind of a dumbass (in an endearing way). The game goes on until Otabek asks about his relationship with Yuuri, and things get a bit more serious.

 _I will give to you the love you seek and more_  
_Come on I'm waiting for you_  
_I will give to you_  
_The love you seek and more_  
_I'll get to you the love you seek and more_  
_You're what I'm waiting for_

“We met my freshman year; Yuuri was a junior. We got paired up on this assignment for a history class. At first I thought he was going to be this obnoxious know it all, and he kind of was, but he never bailed on our meetings and he pulled his weight and over time he kind of grew on me. So after we finished the project turned it in we went to his place and had a few drinks and the next thing we knew we were making out.”

Yuri tries to pretend he doesn’t hear the sharp intake of breath beside him, but when he turns to look at Otabek he’s staring back, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. He’s trying so desperately not to be jealous but he’s really struggling to hide his displeasure that the two have had a more than friendly relationship in the past. Yuri chuckles quietly, rubs the palm of his hand across his brow, tries to look away and save them both from the awkwardness.

“Don’t look at me like that dude, it was just kissing. Besides, we realized afterwards that we were more compatible as friends.” Otabek seems to relax at that, settling back into the lovesac. He grabs onto Yuri’s waist, pulls him on top of him, tries to play it all off casually. It’s a subtle gesture, completely benign from the outside, but Yuri can see the possessiveness the other man’s displaying and he’s eating it up.

‘We’re a lot alike actually - we both care so much about being the best and we’re surrounded by people pushing us to always come out on top. Our parents, his siblings, my grandpa - they’ve all put so much pressure on us to be these perfect hardworking students and we are but sometimes it’s just too fucking much, you know? And we’re surrounded by other people who are also obsessed with being the best and we’re all in competition with each other. And like, it doesn't matter how hard you work, because there's always someone better. No matter what I do, it’s never enough. Yuuri was the first person I met who really got that.” Yuri doesn’t even realize he’s been talking this entire time, can’t even remember why he started telling Otabek all of this. He blames the cider and the warmth of the fire and the way the man beneath him makes his walls fall away, his guard lower. Anyone else and he’d stop there, but Otabek’s just staring up at him with those puppy dog eyes, expression soft and tender like always, and something about that look makes him want to spill all his secrets, strip himself bare.

“Anyway we started to study together and then my second year we moved in together. And somewhere along the way we found this world together, this family of misfits. For the first time I finally felt like I found other people who got me. I know it’s kind of lame, but I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.” He expects Otabek to make fun of him, or maybe just stay silent. What he doesn’t expect is for him to pull him down until their foreheads are pressed together. He doesn’t expect him to caress his cheek with his fingertips, to look up at him lovingly. He definitely doesn’t expect the way his lips press against his own tentatively, like they haven’t been doing this all day. There’s something different about this kiss though, something delicate. Yuri racks his brain to every one night stand, every fuck buddy, but he’s never been kissed like this that he can remember and it makes it feel like the first time all over again. He’s not sure exactly what Otabek’s trying to say with this kiss, but he doesn’t mind taking the time to find out.

 _Baby here we are standing face to face_  
_Just the two of us locked in your embrace_  
_Now I got it bad but you got something good_  
_Won't you treat me good in every way, yeah_  
_Are you ready_  
_I can feel your passion and your love_  
_Oh oh ohhh it overflows_

Otabek finally pulls back, but it’s only to drape his lips to the side of Yuri’s mouth, along his jaw, to the side of his neck, all in that same soft, slow way. Yuri reluctantly moves to pull away when his legs cramp and he realizes he really has to take a piss, but he only makes it a few inches before flopping back on top of the other man.

“I can't move, I'm too comfortable. But I have to stretch and take a leak.” Otabek doesn’t say anything, just stands up and lifts Yuri with him before setting him down and giving him a playful shove towards the trees.

 

xXxXxXx

 

When Yuri finds his way back from the bathroom, he spots Otabek standing beside the fire pit, Mila standing next to him. Only she isn’t just standing next to him, she’s leaning against him, and she has a hand on his shoulder, and she is way too close for casual conversation. Mila’s not dumb: she knows exactly what she’s doing right now. She knows he’s attractive, and is very much trying to test their sexual chemistry, trying to decide if this one is worth the chase. She knows that she’s gorgeous, knows that guys can’t resist her fiery spirit, knows that they take one look at her and start to underdress her with their eyes. She knows all of this, and yet she still turns on the charm, suggestively drinks from the bottle in her hand, runs her fingers through Otabek’s hair.

Of course Yuri knows she’s in love with Sara even if neither of them will address it, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy fucking guys still if her track record is any indication. And Otabek, despite his best efforts not to be seduced by this vision before him, is definitely giving non-verbal cues that he’s enjoying the attention. Yuri tries not to let it get to him, tries so fucking hard not to give in to the voice in his head that keeps screaming ‘mine.’

 _Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you_  
_I drink too much and that's an issue but I'm okay_  
_Hey, you tell your friends it was nice to meet them_  
_But I hope I never see them again_

He’s jealous - and he hates that he’s jealous. He’s never given a shit before, not like this. He’s never wanted to posses someone: own them, cage them. He knows he never wants anyone to own or possess or cage him either, and yet if it were this guy - this insufferably attractive but also super chill guy - he thinks he’d let him and like it. Mila isn’t being a dick, she’s just a flirt and they’ve always been that way in this group: casual, no strings attached, partners for a night, friends who cuddled and maybe fucked and made each other feel good without expecting a morning after. If anyone changed it’s Yuri, and he knows it goes against everything he’s always thought about himself but the idea of seeing someone even hit on Otabek makes his fists clench and his jaw tighten.

 _I know it breaks your heart_  
_Moved to the city in a broke down car_  
_And four years, no calls_  
_Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar_  
_And I-I-I can't stop_  
_No, I-I-I can't stop_

Before his hazy mind catches up his feet are moving, practically jogging and the next thing he knows he throws his arms around Otabek’s neck and jumps up to wrap his legs around his waist, hoping he has enough time and quick reflexes to catch him before they both topple to the ground. He expects him to be mad, hell he expects him to let his ass fall to the ground, but instead he just digs his fingers into the meat of his thighs, holds him in place against him, steadys them both. His biceps are bulging with the effort to keep Yuri wrapped around him and of-fucking-course his arms are corded and ripped and goddammit how is his Greek God personified real and in Yuri’s life suddenly? And if that wasn’t bad enough, if he wasn’t hot and sexy enough, he fucking smiles that dazzling smile that makes Yuri’s head spin and his dick hard and he honestly can’t keep himself from pulling his face towards his, can’t resist smashing his lips against Otabek’s and letting everyone else around know that this guy is spoken for. He can’t help himself from staking his claim, from letting everyone else in their patchwork family know this one is off limits.

 _So baby pull me closer_  
_In the backseat of your Rover_  
_That I know you can't afford_  
_Bite that tattoo on your shoulder_  
_Pull the sheets right off the corner_  
_Of the mattress that you stole_  
_From your roommate back in Boulder_  
_We ain't ever getting older_

When he finally pulls away Otabek just smiles back, a blush creeping over his cheeks. How can he possibly be sex personified one minute and adorable the next? How can he make Yuri want to rip his clothes off one minute and want to cuddle him the next? How can he make Yuri hot and bothered but also feel like there’s a thousand tiny butterflies trying to escape from his chest?

He really just wants to punch the guy in the face for making him feel like this, only he wants to do it with his mouth.

Yuri is so, so fucked.

“So uh, that was nice. Really nice.” Otabek’s hands dig into Yuri’s thighs as the words stumble out of his mouth, but the hunger from before is subsided, replaced by something else, something tender. Yuri still has his legs wrapped around his waist, arms still latched around his neck.

“Yeah well we hung out practically all day and I didn’t get sick of you. Also you didn’t get sick of me, so I guess I figured you earned some sort of reward.” He can’t help but let out a chuckle at his own half assed confession, because of course Yuri can’t just say straight up that he likes the guy, has to make it a game and wrap the compliment in an insult.

Otabek’s eyes flash dark suddenly, and Yuri wonders if he’d offended him. “All day - wait shit, Yuri what time is it?” His grip falters and he carefully let’s Yuri back down before steadying himself and taking in his surroundings, low key panic setting in.

“I don’t know man. Why, do you have somewhere to be?” It’s meant to be a joke, a light hearted jab because they’re at a music festival in the middle of nowhere, of course he doesn’t have somewhere to be.

Only apparently he _does_.

Otabek pulls his phone from his pocket, face contorting the longer he looks at the screen. Yuri can’t see what’s on it, but he can see Otabek’s eyes scanning up and down, realizes he’s reading something. “Shit Yuri, I have to go. I was supposed to meet someone an hour ago. I’m so screwed. I’m sorry, I’ll text you later.”

He’s off running before Yuri can even get a word out, and the blonde is left alone, drunk, wondering what the hell just happened. The way Yuri sees it, it’s pretty fucking convenient that Otabek suddenly has somewhere to be just after Yuri decided to stake his claim. It’s pretty fucking convenient that he suddenly has someone to meet - even though he told him he was here alone - immediately after Yuri had basically just admitted he was into him. Yuri suddenly feels very relieved he didn’t tell him more, didn’t say anything too revealing, didn’t let those thoughts of ‘mine’ that had been running rampant through his mind materialize into anything spoken.

He sulks back to the rest of his group, grabs another mike’s hard and throws himself onto the lovesac that’s currently vacant. Yuri only gets halfway through the bottle before he notices a shadow cast down on him. When he looks up he thinks he must be drunker than he realized because there’s a damn demon standing before him, wings and all, flames flickering from behind him. The logical part of his mind tells him to scream and run and get the fuck out of here, but the louder, more fucked up part of him thinks that being a demon might be kind of cool, so he let's things play out.

At one point the demon tries to talk to him, but he doesn’t understand what he’s saying so he just stares back, waiting for the demon to fuck off or drag him off somewhere. Eventually he gives up, and just when he’s about to close his eyes and chalk it all up to a hallucination, the demon steps forwards and drops down beside him in the lovesac.

Everything takes on a different perspective then, and he can’t stop the giggle fit that erupts from his mouth as realization dawns on him. Phichit - not a demon - is lying next to him, black wings tattered and bent from a night of heavy partying, glaring at him. “Yuri hun, you’re wasted. Why don’t we go back to the tent.”

The fire pit he’d forgotten about - ‘ah right, so that's the flames’ - is still raging beside them, and he hates the idea of leaving the warmth and heading back to their tent where he’ll inevitably spend another night alone pining after Otabek. Then again, just because Otabek bailed doesn’t mean he has to be alone. “Okay, but when we get there why don’t we have a little fun, hmm? You and me, get to know eachother better? I know you’ve thought about it, I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’ve thought about it too you know. So why not? You and Yuuri aren’t hooking up anymore right, that’s what you guys said. So why don’t we?”

Phichit’s glare softens, but instead of looking excited by the offer he just looks exhausted. “Yuri, babe, no. Don’t get me wrong - I’ve definitely thought about it in the past - and you’re obviously gorgeous, but it’s a bad call. I saw the way you attacked Otabek just for someone talking to him. I know you like him, like really like him, even if you aren’t ready to admit it to yourself yet. But don’t try to get with me just because the guy you want took off - that sucks for both of us.” He lets out a sigh afterwards, curls up a bit more into the giant cushion beneath them. He looks small and sad, and Yuri hopes he isn’t the cause of it.

“It’s not like that - I’m worked up and he just fucking bailed on me to meet up with someone else. He said he was here alone - who the fuck could he be meeting up with?” He’s never been this open with Phichit, they’ve never even really had a conversation just the two of them beyond school, but for some reason he feels like he’s the only person he can trust with this right now.

“I don’t know hun, but I’m not going to be your consolation prize. If you’re so set on getting with someone tonight you should try and find him. Maybe go to his campsite and hunt him down?” Phichit claws his way out of the lovesac then, holding his hand out in offering to Yuri once he’s managed to get his footing.

Yuri takes it, glad he didn’t have to find a way to get out of the monstrosity in his current state of drunkenness. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Thanks.” He gives Phichit a kiss on the cheek before walking off in the direction of the other camp sites, determined to track Otabek down and get an answer one way or the other.

xXxXxXx

Thirty minutes, two wrong turns, and one very kind stranger’s directions later and Yuri has finally found his way to High Water. It’s everything he’d expect from the ritzy VIP package - the Yurts are solid, they have real mattresses and linens inside, and there are staff everywhere ready to meet your every demand. The people here all look the same - the LA royalty types that spend Mommy and Daddy’s money without earning their own, who live in McMansions with perfectly manicured lawns even though Californian’s in a five year drought. Basically they all look like grade A douchebags, and Yuri’s disappointed that Otabek is staying with these people. Then again he did bail on Yuri suspiciously, so maybe Otabek fits in here better than he originally thought.

“Yuri, what are you doing here?” Yuri spins around to find Otabek stomping towards him. There’s irritation in his voice but Yuri doesn’t notice it - doesn’t even hear the words that he had spoken. All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and his heart beating out of his chest because whoever Otabek is walking with is fucking gorgeous, and older, and looks so important. How the hell is Yuri supposed to compete with this dude?

“Yuri, are you okay, do you need some water or coffee or something?” Yuri snaps out of his daze, finally hears Otabek speaking to him. His voice is gentler now, concern edging out the frustration he had previously.

“No way man, if I wanted to be sober I wouldn’t have gotten drunk.” Yuri gives him his best fuck you grin, but it’s lopsided at best given his current state of inebriation.

He’s pissed, because he absolutely did not spend the last three months pining over this dude and their missed connection only to find out that he’s got a boyfriend. He definitely did not spend the entire day hanging out with him and being cute and domestic and shit just to find out that he had a goddamn boyfriend that he stood up and is now trying to make amends with. And he abso-fucking-lutely did not literally throw himself at this dude and claim him in front of all of his friends just to find out someone had beaten him to the punch.

“Who the fuck is this Otabek? I thought you said you were here alone. Seems odd now that I think about it - who goes to a music festival alone anyway?”

“Listen, Yuri is it, I don’t know how you two know each other but-” the silver haired dude doesn’t get a chance to finish because Yuri knows that voice, has had it playing on repeat in the back of his mind all day.

“Wait. What the fuck did you just say?” Victor looks back at Otabek silently asking for help, but Otabek just shrugs, unsure what Yuri’s getting at.

“Uh, I said I don’t know how you know each other-”

“Not that part old man, my name, say my fucking name again.” And now Victor looks like he might have an idea what this guy’s going on about, but he really hopes he’s wrong.

“Uh… Yuri?” It’s barely a whisper, but Yuri hears it the same. And now he knows for sure, knows where he’s heard that voice before.

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. It’s you! You’re the dude that Katsuki brought back to the tent last night. You’re the guy he was fucking right next to me. I know, because it was really fucking weird listening to you moaning his name all night when I have the same fucking name.”

Otabek finally turns his attention back to Victor, expecting him to be as confused as Otabek feels. Only instead of that, Victor’s covered in a deep blush and his jaw has fallen open and wow, Victor really must have sleep with Yuri’s friend the previous night if that’s how he looks. He gives Otabek a look, one that makes it clear he didn’t know this guys was related to the one he slept with, and it’s all Otabek can do to keep himself from laughing at this point because honestly, what are the chances.

“Oh uh yeah, that was me last night. We thought you were asleep…”

“Yeah well I fucking wasn’t. So what is this? You two get off on this or something? You find a couple and then you each try to seduce one of them? You fuck them then come home to each other for some cuckold shit?” Yuri isn’t sure when he started yelling, but there’s a couple of people staring at the trio and the scene unfolding now.

“I… wait, what the hell are you talking about? Cuckold? Is that a thing people do?” Otabek tries to stay calm, keep his voice level. He grabs Yuri by the shoulder gently, leading him and Victor away from the other festival goers.

“I mean, it happened on an episode of Archer, so it must happen in real life too. But you fucked this one up - Yuuri's not my boyfriend.” Yuri isn’t yelling anymore, but he’s still livid, and a quiet angry Yuri is even scarier than a loud angry one.

“Dammit Yuri, Victor is not my boyfriend or my partner or whatever. I don’t care that he fucked your friend last night because he’s my manager and I’m his client. We have a work relationship. That’s it, that’s all there is to it.” Otabek can’t keep the edge out of his voice, and the frustration seeps in and colors his words. There’s something else there, something desperate, the hint of plea. It’s enough to give Yuri pause, to calm him down and let him approach this whole mess rationally.

“Your manager? I don’t understand.” He’s not staring at Otabek anymore, his eyes are cast down at the ground now instead and his hands are balled into fists at his side. His shoulders are pulled up towards his ears and Otabek can practically see the tension rolling off of him in waves. Yuri is teetering on the edge right now, and Otabek just wants to make sure he doesn’t push him off of it.

Victor, on the other hand, does not notice the body language or the social cues, and instead he turns to Otabek and says, “Listen. I’m going to give you ten minutes to sort this little kitten out, and then I need you to meet me backstage so we can have the setlist meeting you’re now 90 minutes late to. Got it?”

He turns to leave then without giving Yuri so much as a second glance. He doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Otabek cringes at Victor’s lack of tact and tries to smooth things over again, tries to deflate the tension that’s boiling up between them. Yuri’s been nothing but honest with him so far, so he’s going to do the same in return. He has one shot to fix this, and he can’t blow it because Yuri is too damn important, already too much a part of himself for him to lose him.

“Yuri, I haven’t been totally upfront with you. Victor really is my manager. And I really am here alone. But I’m not exactly here to watch the shows so much as I’m here to perform my own. I’m a producer and a DJ, and I’m playing my first festival set here tomorrow night. That’s the truth.”

Yuri doesn’t give any sign that he’s heard - doesn’t move, doesn’t lift his gaze. He finally responds, but his tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe Otabek, not yet anyway.

“So then why haven’t I ever heard of you?”

Otabek pulls out his phone, scrolls through a few photos before handing it to Yuri. It’s a picture of him, wearing his newest mask, on the front of a tour poster. Yuri’s eyes widen with recognition, and Otabek can see the wheels turning in his mind, can tell he’s putting all the pieces together at once.

“So that night…” Yuri looks at him finally, but he’s still guarded. He doesn’t say anything else, just waits for Otabek to confirm what he already knows to be true.

“I bailed after we first met so I could play my set. I didn’t even stay to finish it though, I let Tom take over the last few songs so I could sneak back out and find you. I couldn’t get my mind off you.”

Yuri doesn’t respond for a few more minutes and Victor is waiting but Otabek can’t leave yet, not like this, not when he isn’t sure if Yuri’s forgiven him yet. He’s about to break the silence when Yuri beats him to it.

“You’re Zoloto.” It’s a statement, not a question, but Otabek feels the need to answer anyway.

“Yes.”

“And that dude is Victor, your manager. That is Victor, the guy Yuuri fucked last night.”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit, he’s Victor Nikiforov isn’t he? Like, the Victor Nikiforov? VicNik?” Yuri shakes his head, looks off into the distance. There’s a smile on his lips but it doesn’t make it to his eyes: his eyes stay dull, glossy.

“Yes, exactly.” And Otabek really shouldn’t feel that guilty because he didn’t really lie, but he hates the idea that Yuri feels like he mislead him.

“So you’re Zoloto, he’s VicNik, and I’m just some dumb rave kid you thought was an easy fuck? I mean I get it, you could have anyone, so I should be honored or whatever but you lied to me dude. I thought… fuck I thought maybe you actually liked me.” And there it is, the fear, the reason Yuri’s so upset about all of this. Otabek rushes to respond, to prove to Yuri that he really is interested in him.

“Yuri it’s not like that I really do-”

“Save it. I’m done man. See you around, or not. Whatever.” Yuri turns and starts to walk back to his own camp without giving Otabek so much as a passing glance.

“Yuri wait!” Otabek reaches out to grab his wrist, pull him back but he stops just inches short when he realizes the last thing he wants to do is force the other guy to stay. It turns out he doesn’t have to anyway because Yuri stops when he asks him to.

He doesn’t turn around, just twists to the side, looks down at the ground beside him. His hair has fallen down to cover his eyes, and Otabek can only see the side of his mouth like this and it isn’t enough, not nearly enough. Otabek desperately wants Yuri to look at him, to connect with him, to give him something that convinces him he hasn’t given up, that he doesn’t really mean he’s done. But Yuri just continues to stare at the ground, refuses to build a bridge between them.

“Your time's up Otabek. Or should I say Zoloto. Go back to your manager and the meeting I made you miss. It was fun while it lasted but this is never going to go anywhere. I see that now.” Yuri turns his head back towards his camp and starts walking again, refusing to look back at the man behind him.

“Yuri please, I’m beggin you, don’t leave it like this.” Otabek desperately wants to chase after him, wants to hold him and kiss him and show him how damn affected he is by Yuri, how much he’s changed his life in the few hours they’ve spent together. “Yuri please, just turn around.”

Yuri doesn't do relationships, doesn't let himself get tied down to one person. But then this guy came along and took his breath away, left him wanting more, carved a place in his heart and left a scar that won't ever heal. And fuck, maybe he doesn't want it to, maybe he wants to wear it like a badge, a constant reminder of what love does to you, of what letting someone in feels like when they’re inevitably ripped away.

Yuri doesn’t turn around.


	10. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> There For You - Martin Garrix  
> Clarity - Style of Eye Remix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiss kiss find someone that makes you want to stop fucking around

Yuri wakes up to a pounding in his head, a pain in his chest, and a pillow damp from his tears. Yuuri wasn't around when he came back last night, and it looks like he crashed somewhere else. Yuri's grateful for that because he really can't handle explaining this to him right now. The sun's already pretty high in the sky so he knows it's at least 9, but he can't bring himself to get up. All he wants to do is wrap himself in blankets and spend the day hiding in his makeshift nest, but it'll be far too hot pretty soon and he can't spoil his last day here just because of some dude - Yuri Plisetsky does not sulk, Yuri Plisetsky does not dwell and mope.

The others have probably already gone down to Calm Meadows for morning yoga and Yuri is going to join them and prove he's stronger than this pain, that he can move past this. It's crazy he's upset at all really when he thinks about it. He barely knew the guy, they'd only fooled around once and made out a few times. They had fun while it lasted and that's all that should matter. Whatever hopes Yuri had built up in his mind that they could grow to be something more we're just that - silly ideas in his mind. Yuri doesn't date people, Yuri doesn't get attached to people. What happened yesterday was a moment of weakness, a temporary lapse in judgment and it's not going to happen again.

 _I woke up pissed off today_  
_And lately everyone feels fake_  
_Somewhere I lost a piece of me_ _  
_ Smoking cigarettes on balconies

He crawls out of bed, throws on a t-shirt and yoga pants and makes his way down to join the others. He sets up as close to them as he can get, but the class has already started so he's stuck a few rows behind them. Only ten minutes in he realizes this was a terrible idea - he’s too hungover to touch his toes let alone do downward dog. The whole reason they had planned to come here was to relax and decompress, to start their last day as a group off right. Only Yuri's never been the type to do anything halfway and even though yoga isn't a sport, he hates that the people around him are better at it than he is. He spots Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, surprised to see that Victor dude with him. They both look so relaxed, so “zen,” and he wants to slap the stupid happy smile off of both their faces. Phichit and Chris are next to them, their form perfect, their movements in sync. Yuri thinks things couldn't get much worse, only then everyone comes to extended mountain and he realizes the guy next to Victor has dark hair and an under cut just like…

_‘Wait, it can't be, he wouldn't….’_

Only he did.

“Motherfucker.” The couple next to him turn to give Yuri a dirty look, but he just flips them off grabs his mat and storms out. This was their thing to do as a group on their last day and more importantly it was Yuri's chance to get his mind centered and calm and off of Otabek only that dick showed up and ruined it all. He's pissed at Yuuri too because how dare he invite him knowing full well that Yuri is not talking to him.

Only he probably doesn't know that. No one except Yuri and Otabek know that, although Victor probably has an idea. If anything Yuuri probably thought he was doing him a favor, which makes it even worse. He drops off his mat and heads over to the meditation gardens - he may not be able to be with the group right now, but he can still find a way to clear his mind and salvage the day. He's definitely hungover,and maybe even still a bit drunk, so today he's going to do a full cleanse and binge on water.

 _But I can't do this alone_  
_Sometimes I just need a light_  
_If I call you on the phone_ _  
_ Need you on the other side 

Yuri finds a nice spot next to the lavender fields and decides to lay down and let himself bake in the California sun, hoping the heat will ease away the tension. He just wants to put all of this behind him, to act like it never happened, to spend his last day dancing his ass off with the people he loves before graduation comes and they all leave him.  He hasn’t brought it up, but he’s not stupid: Yuuri finishes his masters in June and there’s no way he’ll be sticking around here where there’s no job market. Phichit, Chris, Georgie and Mila are all finishing undergrad too and it’s unlikely any of them are going to stick around here either. This isn’t the type of town you work in after college unless you’re in agriculture and none of them are. If he’s lucky one or two may take a gap year and hang out, work their bartending job an extra year while they figure out what they want but he hasn’t asked any of them their plans yet. If anything, he’s been avoiding the topic all together since he’s the only one that won’t be finishing too. He hasn’t bothered to connect to anyone in his own year because he had every one he needed in their group already. Now he’s going to be alone again, and while he won’t admit it, it’s not a welcome thought.  
  
_Last year took a toll on me_  
_But I made it with you next to me_  
_Around the world and back again_ _  
_ I hope you're waiting at the end

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when his phone vibrates. Yuri’s tempted to ignore it, but the last thing he wants to do is miss any major plans with the others. As soon as he swipes the lock screen the messages pop up - apparently he’s been ignoring them for a while already.

**Otabek: Hi Yuri. I know you don’t want to see me or talk to me right now, but it would mean a lot to me if you came to my set today. I’m sorry I lied to you, and I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. I left a VIP pass with Yuuri.**

**Yuuri: Hey Thing 2 <3**

**Yuuri: Look I know you’re pissed - I’m sorry about yoga. I had no idea what happened between you two last night when I had invited him. Actually I thought Otabek had stayed with you because he wasn’t in his tent all night. When he showed up this morning looking like crap I knew I was wrong but it was already too late.**

**Yuuri: I don’t really know what happened but I know he’s a mess about it and honestly, he seems really into you. He’s a nice dude Yuri, and we both know you’ve talked about your tryst in the woods for months. Give him a shot, I don’t think you’ll regret it.**

**Yuuri: If you decide to come his set’s at 5:45 at Questa Stage, I’ll be there with your pass.**

**Mila: Yuuurrrrriiiii my love, we’re at Avila Stage, come dance with usssss and quit moping. It isn’t like you to be such a crybaby.**  
  
He wants to delete Otabek and Yuuri’s texts and go get trashed with Mila to prove he can hang, but that’s the easy way out and for once Yuri doesn’t want to take that path. He sits up and walks over to a nearby bench, giving himself a change of scenery. He takes out the pocket knife he keeps on him for emergencies, flips it open and stabs it hard into the wooden seat beneath him. He repeats the action over and over again, flinching every time it dives into the wood with a sickening split. He doesn't even realize what he's doing, but the letters Y U R have already formed so he might as well add the I. He marks his name into the old wood they way he used to when he was a kid, back when he was angry all the time but didn't know why. Back when he wore black Dickies with chains on them and all his shirts were coated in The Offspring and AFI and Invader Zim. Back when he stole cuffs and buttons from hot topic to decorate his messenger bag. Back when he'd stay up too late getting stoned with the older boys in the bowl of the skate park who promised him the world for a hand job then acted like they didn't know him the next day at school.

 _But I can't do this alone_  
_Sometimes I just need a light_  
_If I call you on the phone_ _  
_ Need you on the other side

He hasn't felt like that pissed off teen in a long time, but something about this dude brings it all back, something about losing him makes him feel young and small and vulnerable like back then, like the first time he admitted he liked another guy and the world came crashing down around him. And maybe that's it, maybe he's been so closed off, so set on just fucking because this part fucking sucks and he doesn't know how to feel love because it always turns into this pain eventually. When he looks down at the grass around him there are a few small daisies scattered about, and he sets down the knife and plucks one. He pulls off a petal, then another, and another. He doesn’t even know why he’s doing it, hasn’t played the school yard game since he was a little boy, but this is the most confused he’s been in a long time and asking the flower if he should forgive Otabek seems to make enough sense in the moment. He pulls off another petal -

_‘I should go to his see his set.’_

And the next -

_‘I should get drunk and hook up with Mila.’_

Another -

_‘I should hear him out and take the pass.’_

The second to last -

_‘I should find the hottest guy around and ride him until I can’t walk.’_

There’s one petal left, and only one thought left in his mind, one in the forefront of his conscious screaming at him to be heard.

_‘I really like this guy and I want to see him again.’_

Yuri sighs and lets the stem fall back to the grass below. He’s still pissed off, and a part of him isn’t sold yet because giving in to this, going to see this guy means he gives a shit. Going to see his set means he cares and that is dangerous because Yuri knows that the second you let someone in you’re only counting down the moments until they leave. Yuri knows that admitting he cares about this dude is going to ruin him, is going to screw him over and then he’s going to have to face this pain again. He knows all of this, but he still stands up, grabs his shit and heads to his tent to get cleaned up because somehow, despite knowing this is going to end badly, he still wants to take the journey.

 _So when your tears roll down your pillow like a river_  
_I'll be there for you_  
_When you're screaming, but they only hear you whisper_  
_I'll be loud for you_  
  
_I got you, I promise_  
_Let me be honest_  
_Love is a road that goes both ways_  
_When your tears roll down your pillow like a river_  
_I'll be there for you_  
_But you gotta be there for me too_

xXxXxXx

 Yuuri is standing near the VIP entrance with Victor when Yuri finally makes it to Otabek’s stage. Victor has his arm around him casually, and it’s the happiest Yuri’s ever seen Katsuki look. If he can be willing to open himself up to someone, then maybe Yuri can too.

“Yuri you came! And you look fierce. I’m so glad you decided to give him a chance.” He throws his arms around Yuri, gives him a bone crushing hug. Yuri doesn’t take his hands out of his pockets and he groans in complaint, but Yuuri knows it’s all a show, knows that Yuri secretly loves his affection. When he finally pulls back Yuri’s cheeks are tinted rose and he coughs to hide his smile and put a neutral expression back across his face.

“I don’t know about all that yet, but I’ll stay for his set if nothing else. I didn’t want to spend our last day here together apart Piggy. You’re leaving me soon but you’re not rid of me yet.” Yuri is looking past the man in front of him, avoiding direct eye contact. It takes a minute for the words to sink in, and suddenly Yuuri is acutely aware that he hasn’t been as discreet about moving as he thought he was.

“Yuri, I…”

“Don’t, not here. We can talk about it at home. I know you have to leave, there’s nothing left for you there.” Yuuri does his best to hold back the tears that threaten to fall, to hide his face in Yuri’s shoulder as he pulls him tight against him again.

“Fuck, I’m so glad that professor put us in the same group because we had the same name.” It’s barely above a whisper but Yuri hears it just the same, knows the words are just for him anyway.

“Me too Yuuri, me too.” Yuri lets his arms travel up and return the embrace quickly before pulling back and regaining his composure. They can cry about their imminent split later - right now Yuri has more pressing matters to attend to. He turns his attention to Victor next, stares him up and down, sizing up the newest man in his best friend’s life. So far this guy has two strikes against him in Yuri’s book, but he’s willing to make an effort if it matters to Yuuri.

“Hey, old man - why’d you skip out on him the other morning? He was pretty upset you know.” Yuri gestures to Yuuri standing next to him.

“Yuri! What the hell why would you tell him that! It’s embarrassing…” Yuuri waves his arms frantically, tries to hide his embarrassment by cradling his face in his hands. Yuri expects Victor to be annoyed or out off, but he just gives Yuuri the softest smile he’s ever seen, looks at him lovingly. It pisses Yuri off in a way, because this dude barely knows Katsudon, but at the same time, he’s happy for his friend.

“Ah yes well I had a meeting and I definitely should have left a note, but Yuuri and I met up later and as you can see we’ve worked things out.” Yuuri lifts his face from his hands and gives Victor a smile in return. The blush is still there, and he’s still embarrassed, but Yuri can tell he’s happy. It’s obvious from the outside that Victor only has eyes for Yuuri and his fears about Otabek and him being involved are unfounded, but there’s still something about this dude that rubs him the wrong way and he isn’t going to trust him just yet.

“That’s great and all, but if you hurt him, I’ll hunt you down and cut off both your legs. Do you understand me?” He tries, really fucking tries to be threatening, but this guy has a good foot on him and instead of looking scared he looks excited by the response instead.

“You really are a scary little kitty aren’t you?” There’s a glint in his eye and it makes Yuri uneasy.

“Blow me.”

“And there’s that spirit Otabek is so enamored with. You know he won’t shut up about you. I don’t know what you did, but he’s never talked about someone like that in the years we’ve worked together. He would have been devastated if you didn’t turn up. Probably would have blown this whole chance, actually.” Victor says it all as casually as if discussing the weather, but Yuri knows he’s trying to manipulate him, trying to put in a good word for Otabek.

“Can it, I don’t believe a word out of your mouth.”

“Believe what you want, it’s the truth. The whole reason he wears the mask is so that he doesn’t have to be fake, doesn’t have to put on a show for the media. He’s a genuine person Yuri, and he doesn’t throw his celebrity status around to get groupies.” If anyone knows the real Otabek it’s Victor - he’s managed him for a few years now and they’ve seen every side of each other. Of course, Otabek still gets some bad PR as Zoloto, some people convinced that he’s a dick who thinks he’s too good to show his face. But Victor knows the truth, knows that Otabek is just afraid of the fame changing him, of having to be someone he isn’t just to sell more records. He lives for the music and he’s grateful that he’s been able to do this for a living, but it isn’t for Victor or the record label, it’s for the kids who get lost in his beats. Victor knows all of that because he used to feel the same, back before the pressure became too much, before he saw the way record labels chewed up young artists and spit them out, before he got burnt out on all the backstabbing. That was why he set out on his own, that’s why he made it his business to find real talent in local clubs, that’s what led him to Otabek in the first place.

“Whatever.” Yuri tries to keep up the act, tries to stay cold. He’s already decided to give Otabek a chance to explain, but he isn’t going to give this guy the satisfaction of thinking he had any impact on that.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to keep Yuuri and Victor company much longer because there’s a tap on his shoulder and when he turns around Otabek is standing behind him. His eyes are sunken, his hair is a mess, and from the creases in his face Yuri can tell he’s been crying. He wants to hug him, wants to tell him he forgives him, wants to drag him back to his tent and force him to get some rest, but instead he says, “Wow, you really look like shit.”

“Uh yeah well, I slept in my car last night so that wasn’t exactly a great situation for me.” He chuckles but there’s nothing happy about it. Yuri doesn’t say anything, just gives him a look that demands he explain himself better.

“Well Yuuri came over and I promised to give Victor the tent because I thought I’d be with you. And then I was too embarrassed to admit I had nowhere to go, so I just hunkered down in the back seat like old times.” Otabek reaches an arm back, rubs at the back of his neck and gives Yuri a shrug. And fuck, even after last night, there’s that damn fond feeling he gets, that sweet molasses creeping up, coating him slowly in fuzzy feelings, pulling at the ends of his mouth until he’s grinning at the loveable moron in front of him.

“Wow, you really are an idiot sometimes.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Otabek looks back at him, has a matching smile across his face. Maybe he’s just as affected by Yuri as Yuri is by him, maybe they’re both overcome with those same sickeningly sweet feelings when the other is around.

“I have to go but Yuri, I’m really glad you came, and I really hope you’re still here afterwards. I have a lot I want, no I need to tell you, and I really hope you’ll listen. I need you to know how much this all meant to me. You’re the first person that’s treated me like a normal guy in years, you’re the first person I’ve really been myself with in well, ever. And I know it’s crazy and I know we have a lot to figure out, but I want to figure it out together.”

“Go play your show, break a leg or whatever. I’ll be here after.” Otabek gives a small final smile and turns to leave but before he makes his first step he’s pulled back roughly into the other man’s chest. Yuri’s lips are on his cheek - soft, timid - and gone before the action really registers at all. Yuri gives him a gentle shove and looks down, a bright red blush on his cheeks. Otabek knows him well enough to know he doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to make a big deal about things, so he grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze before heading back to get ready.

Half an hour later Otabek walks on to the stage, mask in place. The crowd screams, a few in the front shove themselves up against the railing, phones held in front of them to get the best shot. Like always Otabek doesn’t say anything, just lifts his arm to silence the crowd. The first few notes float out into the air, but there’s something different about this already, something unexpected. Instead of being gritty this is upbeat, almost like a house track. He drops his arms slowly and points at directly at Yuri where he’s standing in the wings. The lyrics finally hit him just as a light turns and points down on him, blinding him.

 _High dive into frozen waves_  
_Where the past comes back to life_  
_Fight fear for the selfish pain_  
_And it’s worth it every time_

When he can see again Otabek is motioning for him to join him. Yuri knows if he goes out there the whole world is going to connect him to Zoloto, is going to hound him for answers. He’s panicking, because this is a really big choice to make, but just before he steps out there’s a hand on his shoulder and Victor is smiling down at him, holding out a tiger mask.

_Hold still right before we crash_  
_‘Cause we both know how this ends_  
_Our clock ticks till it break your glass_  
_And I drown in you again_

“This is for you, if you want to join him.” He hands it to Yuri and winks before heading back to his own partner. Maybe Victor isn’t so bad after all.

Yuri pulls the mask on before walking out to the stage and joining Otabek in the pit. He spends the rest of the show dancing on the stage, hyping up the crowd. It’s a risk, letting someone in, trying to make a real connection in a plastic world, but if it’s with Otabek then Yuri thinks it’s worth it.

_‘Cause you are the piece of me_  
_I wish I didn’t need_  
_Chasing relentlessly_  
_Still fight and I don’t know why_  
_If our love is tragedy why are you my remedy_  
_If our love’s insanity why are you my clarity_

xXxXxXx

Bonus:

“Wait you’re living in LA right now?” Yuuri’s yelling over the music, dancing in the wings with Victor while Otabek wraps up his set.

“Yeah, that’s where my agency is centered. I’m offended you didn’t know that Yuuri.” Victor mocks offense and Yuuri playfully smacks his arms away.

“No it’s just, I’m moving to LA this summer once I graduate.”

“Yuuri!” Victor throws his arms around Yuuri and lifts him up, spinning them both in a wide circle. When he sets him down Yuuri hides his face in his shoulder. Any other guy and Yuuri would be confident, would put on his show and demand their attention. But with any other guy, that would be all he wanted - sex, no strings attached. Only he actually cares about this guy, actually wants to spend time with him on a real level and try opening himself up. He’s still afraid, still not sure he can be himself and make a relationship work, but if anyone knows what it’s like to search for a real connection it’s Victor.

“Uh yeah, maybe we could hang out some time or something.” The words stumble out of his mouth and he really hopes he doesn’t sound like an idiot but he doesn't want to use a line, doesn’t want to make this a performance.

“Trust me Yuuri, I’d like to see you as often as you can.” And that’s all it takes, a quiet confession, no gimmicks or pick up lines. That’s all it takes for Yuuri’s last walls to come crumbling down, for him to give in fully to the idea of giving love a shot again.

“Me too Victor.”

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is, the horcrux I never meant to make.
> 
> Seriously though, if you made it to the end, then thanks so much for going on that trip down memory lane with me <3
> 
> Kudos and comments are lifeblood.
> 
> Not to get sentimental and shit, but the SB discord has been a true blessing and I am just so thankful that I got to chat and sprint and laugh with you wonderful "problematic" people. I hope you guys enjoyed this.


End file.
